STAR TREK: Second Contact
by YaoiBoyToy
Summary: This story follows the crew of the Starship Enterprise immediately after the events of "Star Trek: Nemesis." It will mark humanity's first return to Pandora after over 200 years of exile. Read and find out what amazing things have happened on Pandora!
1. Prologue: A Hidden, Advanced Society

**STAR TREK: Second Contact**  
>A Fan-fiction crossover by <em>YaoiBoy<em>

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><p>"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.<p>

"Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.  
>I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.<p>

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><p><strong>PROLOGUE<strong>: A Hidden, Advanced Society

Captains Log, Stardate: 56884.93

_The _Enterprise_ is preparing to leave the Proxima Centauri system after a complete refit and full repair of our battle damage. It has been two months since we entered dry-dock here at the Starfleet maintenance yards—Two months since I have graced the captain's chair. Two months, too long… How I have missed the old girl…_

_I can't express my gratitude enough to the ship and its crew. Both performed adamantly, leading us to a hard fought victory against the enemy renegade, _Shinzon._ The crew exceeded all expectations and I recommend commendations for all who were present. They all earned their well deserved, extended shore leave._

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><p>Captain Picard handed the PADD back to the charming young Ensign Hayley and turned to face the viewscreen on the bridge of the mighty, <em>Sovereign Class<em> starship. The latticework of Space Dock bordered all four sides of the image as if the captain were staring out through the end of a massive tunnel. Support craft of various types were finishing up their work and making way. The android "B4", now carrying fully functional memory engrams of the late Commander Data, was at the navigation console. Picard's new first officer, Commander Worf sat proudly in the chair to his right. To his left was the beautiful counselor Troi, who looked melancholy. He sensed that she longed to follow her husband, Cpt. William Riker aboard the _Titan_, which had departed fifteen days earlier. She had made the decision to remain aboard the _Enterprise_. Picard swore to himself that he would find a way to make it up to her.

Lieutenant junior grade Wesley Crusher arrived from the turbo lift and took his place at the helm station. The Enterprise was ready to move on to its next assignment. Picard stiffened his stance.

"Lieutenant, clear all moorings. Signal Space Dock for departure," ordered the captain.

"Aye, sir." The younger Crusher tapped a few pads on his console. "Moorings clear. Starfleet signals, go."

"Take us out, Mr. Crusher," called the captain. "Ahead, one quarter impulse."

"Ahead, one quarter," repeated the helmsman. The starship began to move—the wireframe border of Space Dock fell away quickly to reveal the vastness of space.

"Set a course for Vulcan—warp 4," the captain commanded. "Engage."

With a flash of streaming starlight, the massive starship entered superluminal flight mode, vanishing a moment later. With their current flight plan, including a few stops to resupply, they would arrive at Vulcan in four days.

* * *

><p>The captain grimaced at the sound of the comm. Glancing at the chronometer, it was 3:30 am. He groaned and lifted his head from the pillow.<p>

"Yes, Mr. Worf," answered the captain, trying to hide his fatigue. "What is it?"

"Captain… Sir… Sorry to wake you. We have a priority one transmission from StarFleet Command."

"Send it here, would you please."

"Immediately, sir."

Jean-Luc sat up, reaching for and pressing a pad on a keyboard, activating the viewer on his bedside table. Admiral Janeway's image graced the screen, carrying a look of concern.

"Kathryn," started the captain.

"Jean-Luc…" said the former starship captain with a grim smile. "Sometimes I miss being out there galloping the stars…"

"Yes, Admiral. I will never regret my decision to stay on as ship's captain." He smiled. "If you are trying to push me towards promotion again, I'm sorry. But the answer is still 'no.'" Sensing the admiral's seriousness, he decided this wasn't the time for banter. "However, I suspect this isn't a social call."

"Right you are, captain. Have a look at this." Janeway looked down at her keyboard and entered a few commands. Picard's display now showed a star map of the Alpha Centauri system. The map was darted with starship activity, mostly civilian. One dot on the screen was highlighted in red, indicating the lack of a Starfleet transponder. The captain immediately became concerned.

"More Romulans?" asked the captain. "Survivors from the _Scimitar?_"

"Negative, Captain," stated Janeway. "This warp signature originated from Centauri A-III."

Picard felt his jaw drop. "Originated? Polyphemus? Are you certain?"

"Yes, Jean-Luc," she said mater-of-fact-ly. "A low warp signature originating from a place where it never has before."

"Astounding. You don't think…"

"We aren't sure, which is why we are investigating. I hereby order the Enterprise to enter the system and assess what is going on over there, as you are to closest starship."

"Understood."

"Now, please understand the ramifications of this, captain." She lowered her voice. "The signature matches Zefram Cochrane's original prototype. That fact is to remain _classified_. Share this knowledge only with your immediate command staff. Do NOT let it spread to general quarters. There would be hell to pay."

"Agreed…" He rubbed his chin. "Care to make a speculation as to what is going on over there?"

"We think it may just be some civilian hobbyist flying without a registration beacon. A bit of a joyride, perhaps…" She looked concerned again. "It is the location that concerns us. Somehow, they got past the security grid surrounding the system, initiating their warp flight from inside it. Go find out who it is and bring them in for questioning. Now, let me be clear—Under no circumstances is _anyone_ to leave the Enterprise once you enter the system. Acknowledge."

"Understood," confirmed the captain. _"Strange requirement…"_ he thought.

"Report directly to me once you have the situation under control." She nodded. "Godspeed, Jean-Luc. Janeway, out." The screen returned to the Starfleet insignia and went dark shortly afterwards.

The captain stood up pressed his comm. badge. "Picard to Number One."

"Worf, here," answered the first officer.

"Reverse course," he barked. "It seems that it wasn't quite our time to leave the Centauri system."

"Sir?"

"Make it so, Commander."

"Yes, sir!"

"Meet me in my ready room. Picard, out."

He walked to his wardrobe and donned a fresh command tunic. Leaving his quarters, he made his way to the nearest turbolift. It would be a long night.

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><p>This story follows the crew of the Starship <em>Enterprise<em> immediately following the events of "Star Trek: Nemesis." It will mark humanity's first return to _Pandora_ after over two hundred years of exile. What has become of the Na'vi people after two centuries of accelerated evolution and exposure to humanity? Find out as I meld the worlds of _Star Trek: The Next Generation_ and _James Cameron's Avatar_. I will attempt to maintain the canon we all know and love from both worlds.

Note: there may be elements from my previous story "Avatar: First Contact." I suggest reading that story beforehand, but it is not a requirement to follow this story.

Enjoy,  
>YaoiBoy<p> 


	2. Chapter 1: Flight of the Phoenix—Redux

And so begins a new adventure. Yes, there will be pairings (nothing nasty ^_~)  
>I hope you enjoy it! -YaoiBoy<p>

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><p>"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.<br>Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.

I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 1<strong>: Flight of the Phoenix—Redux

With the 180 degree turn completed, Commander Worf made his way to the captain's ready room. Upon entering, Picard hit the comm., requesting B4 and Dr. Crusher join them, as well. Both present on the bridge, the android and ship's doctor came through the door a moment later after announcing themselves. The captain had a grim look about himself as he gestured the three senior officers to be seated. Without a word, he directed everyone's attention to the computer screen which was actively displaying a star map on the room's back wall. The captain got right to business.

"Thank you for joining me," greeted Picard, meeting the eyes of all present. "Please note that this security briefing is classified." All nodded in understanding. "All right… We are travelling to the second planet of Alpha Centauri A: Polyphemus." All eyes were pierced on the captain. "Long-range sensors have detected a rogue warp signature originating from inside the planetary security grid."

"Inside?" huffed Mr. Worf. "Sir… That is _not_ possible! Unless… A malfunction? It must be a fault with security grid."

"Perhaps, Mr. Worf," calmed the captain. "We have been ordered to locate the source of this warp signature and question those responsible. Now, the most interesting part is this: the signature matches that of Zefram Cochrane's original warp ship prototype, the Phoenix."

"Isn't that ship on display at the Smithsonian Institute?" asked Dr. Crusher.

"Indeed," answered Picard. "Clearly, someone has made use of its design." He smiled. "We suspect amateur spacefarers—perhaps trying out something they created from a computer simulation. We are just speculating at this point, but this is to be taken very seriously. We may be in violation of the treaty of 2154."

He stood from his chair and walked over to the screen, pointing out elements as he spoke. "Now, we must determine how this ship breached the security grid around the planet. Sensor logs show no record of any ships attempting to pass through the perimeter since a Ferengi freighter was turned away in 2185."

"Captain," called B4. "I have no reference to the erection of a security grid around Polyphemus. There is the original field surrounding the entire planetary system erected by the Vulcans in 2041, but that field has not been supplanted nor enhanced to provide a perimeter around the second planet… to my knowledge, sir."

The captain smiled. "It's time we took a look at the past, Commander." He returned to his chair and faced the screen.

"Computer…" He was acknowledged immediately with a chime. "Request library records: Earth: Resources Development Administration: old calendar year 2154, day 235. Query: Extra-Solar Colony 01. Execute."

A warning chime sounded. "Library records restricted to authorized personnel only," announced the computer. "To continue, three authorized access codes are required, followed by a retinal scan of the commanding officer." Picard looked at his command staff and gave a slight smile of encouragement.

"Please," he asked. All complied by speaking their full name, rank and four digit access code. The captain then stared into the bottom right corner of the screen, activating its built in biometrics.

"Security access confirmed," granted the computer. Satisfied, Picard barked on.

"Display library recording marked ESC01-51236, presented by Administrator Parker Selfridge," called the captain. The RDA administrator's face appeared—his voice was hurried.

"Well, I guess that's all she wrote," said the pale man, nervously. "No thanks to our own, no-good _scientists_ going native on our asses." B4 cocked his head curiously as Selfridge continued. "Effective immediately, all RDA personnel have been ordered to evacuate Hell's Gate. _Do not pass Go, do not collect $200_. We have to prepare to leave, _now_. The remaining shuttle is already on the way down. One of the savages is standing outside my door as we speak, waiting to kick me out of here. I, for one, am happy to oblige. Get me the _hell_ off this rock!" The recording ended.

Picard addressed the computer again, accessing a record created by a Dr. Max Patel—one of the aforementioned scientists allowed to remain at the colony after the RDA had been exiled. The bearded, brown man appeared on the screen, apparently in a laboratory. A team of Vulcan security officers stood in the background.

"This is Dr. Max Patel," he stated. "I speak for the remaining human population of Hell's Gate on the moon 'Pandora' in the Alpha Centauri system. In light of recent events, we have come to a difficult decision. We are sending this message to the RDA Science Directorate and Starfleet Command, formally requesting that _all_ operations and relations between Earth and Pandora be terminated immediately. All ISV's en route are to be turned back. We now control the satellite network surrounding Pandora and the Vulcans inform us they are erecting a security defense perimeter around the entire planet Polyphemus and its moons. Your ships will not be able to maintain a guidance lock for orbital insertion. Don't risk the lives of your ships and crew by trying to do it manually. The Vulcans have indicated that they will patrol the system for the foreseeable future. Please do not challenge them."

"Fascinating," commented B4. The recording paused.

The Captain interjected. "According to Starfleet records, The Resources Development Administration—or 'RDA', as it was called—collapsed one year after this message was sent. Starfleet took over their entire operation, eventually taking responsibility for patrolling the perimeter, as well."

Max continued. "All superluminal, subspace communications relays to and from Pandora are now disabled," Max continued. "You will not be able to reestablish control, remotely. "All human personnel, save for myself, Dr. Norm Spellman and selected members of the Avatar program, have been sent back to Earth. Vulcan says they will be watching over this world, to verify it does not fall victim to any more illogical human ignorance. They are sending a consulate ship to Earth to discuss terms. We all now have a sense of relief as we start to rebuild. Thank you for your attention." The recording ended.

In all, they reviewed fifteen historical records from Pandora. They now had a complete view as to the happenings leading up to the war on Pandora between humans and the native Na'vi. The Vulcans' involvement had been irritating at that time and there was much outrage, but an agreement was reached.

Picard turned to face his staff. "So… There you have it," he stated. "We all know the rest from the history books."

"So there's the answer to the mystery surrounding what happened down there on Pandora," said the doctor. "All these years… we were told it was to establish a private wildlife refuge." She laughed. "I'm surprised the Vulcans weren't involved sooner. They seemed to watch us very carefully back in those days."

"Apparently, that careful Vulcan 'guidance' did not include non-Starfleet activities," stated Mr. Worf. He was reading from his PADD. "According to this, The RDA did not attract the attention of the Vulcans because they were not permitted to use warp technology." He looked up at the captain. "A very reckless oversight..."

"Yes," agreed the captain. "The Pandora treaty was ratified in late 2154. All access to the Polyphemus system has been restricted ever since, in the name of the _prime directive_. Starfleet has continued to enforce this treaty to this very day. We do not know what became of the remaining humans and the Na'vi society as sensor scans are blocked by the security grid. Vulcan continues to operate the field in agreement with Starfleet. There has been no known communication with Pandora since the treaty was signed."

Picard paused for a moment, letting the statement sink in. "That was over two_ hundred_ years ago. Today, we may risk breaking such as many years of history wide open. It would be best to avoid that at all costs. Let us find this warp ship before it does any _real_ damage." He stood and looked at his officers, one at a time. "Remember, this briefing is classified. Dismissed."

All returned to the bridge, captain following behind as they all settled into their stations. Dr. Crusher smiled at her son as she made her way to a turbo lift to return to Sickbay.

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><p>Captain's log, supplemental:<p>

_The _Enterprise_ has just entered Alpha Centauri A system. So far, we have had no sign of the rogue warp signature. We will be in orbit around Polyphemus within the hour. The Vulcan high command has communicated that they refuse to lower the security grid until they can send a ship to investigate the matter themselves. How… illogical._

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><p>"Keep scanning, Mr. Dat…" the captain choked in the middle of his command. Clearing his throat, he restated. "Commander B4."<p>

B4 stood and turned to face the captain. "Sir, I contain all of Commander Data's memories up to the events sounding stardate 56844.9, the date of his last full backup routine. I am not equipped with an emotion chip, but I can mimic Data in every other way, should you so desire."

The captain smiled and waved him off. "That's quite alright, B4. Carry on."

"Yes, sir." He returned to his seat and manipulated his console. "Now arriving at the planet Polyphemus."

"Dropping to impulse," called out Wes from the helm. The streaks of starlight on the viewer slowed to pinpoints—the massive, blue gas giant Polyphemus was filling the screen quickly.

"Standard orbit, Mr. Crusher." Picard turned to Troi, who looked to be having an experience all to herself. "Counselor, what is it?" he asked.

"Sir, I'm sensing a powerful consciousness here." The half-Betazoid smiled. "It is filled with happiness. I hear many voices."

"The Na'vi?"

"I believe so, Captain." Then she frowned. "Wait…"

The Captain and his first officer looked on with concern.

"It's gone," she said with a confused look. "I can't sense them anymore. It is as if I am being blocked."

"Sir!" called B4. "Warp signature detected… three-hundred, thousand kilometers behind us—headed towards the system's star. They are now in superluminal flight."

"Follow that ship, commander!" barked the captain. "Go to warp and overtake them, Mr. Crusher."

The Enterprise broke orbit and turned towards the fleeing warp signature, vanishing into light-speed.

"The vessel is traveling at warp 1.1," called B4. "That appears to be its maximum. We will rendezvous with it in twelve point two seconds."

"Onscreen, Mr. B4!"

"Yes, sir. In range… now." The viewer flashed to reveal a ship that appeared to be right out of the history books: It was identical in looks to Cochrane's warp ship, with the exception of its size. It was easily twice as large. "Sir... It is dropping out of warp."

"Compensating," called Mr. Crusher at the helm.

"Drop out of warp, Mr. Crusher," ordered the captain—Alpha Centauri A was soon bright and beautiful on the view screen. "Bring us along side the warp ship." He called behind him. "Mr. Tuvok, open hailing frequencies."

"Yes, Captain," called the Vulcan science officer from the comm. station, manipulating his console. "No response."

"Open a channel."

"Channel open."

Picard spoke clearly. "This is Captain Picard of the USS Enterprise. Please respond." After a moment of silence, he looked back to Tuvok. "What's happening?"

"Sir, they do not appear to have modern communications equipment onboard their ship. Attempting to compensate." After a pause, the alarm klaxon sounded—monitors indicated condition: red.

"Captain!" alarmed B4. "Energy reading from the warp ship. It appears to be charging weapons."

"What?" called Picard, surprised. "Shields up! Now, commander!"

The unknown vessel fired its weapons towards the Enterprise—three projectiles. However, none detonated. They merely impacted the Enterprise's hull barely registering on the ship's inertial dampeners. When another volley was fired, it was immediately deflected by the shield emitters. The projectiles were destroyed.

"No damage, Captain," called B4. "No detonation. Enemy weapons use a 22nd century rocket-propelled missile delivery system equipped with conventional warheads. They would not have damaged us even if they had been fully operational."

"Missiles?" questioned the captain. "Mr. Tuvok, we need those communications!"

"Sir, they are not responding on any known communications technology we carry."

"Captain," called B4. "They are powering up their warp engines." A moment later, they were gone.

"Match speed and course, Mr. Crusher. Engage!" ordered the captain, impatiently. "_Damn! Why don't they answer," _he thought.

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><p>In a matter or minutes, the <em>Enterprise<em> had returned to Polyphemus, following the warp ship. To all's dismay, the warp ship was soon in orbit around the moon, Pandora. Soon it began to descend into the atmosphere.

"Full sensor sweep, Mr. Tuvok," called the captain. "Get as much information as you can before we lose them."

"Sensors ineffective, Captain. There appears to be a deflection field of some type surrounding the entire moon. All signals are being reflected back."

The captain cursed to himself. "Can we grab onto them with a tractor beam?"

"Out of range, captain," answered the science officer.

"We can't risk transporters…" He stroked his chin. "Options, number one?" called Picard to Worf.

"Shuttle craft, sir," he said immediately. "We can follow them in."

"Unfortunately, Mr. Worf… We are under direct orders from Starfleet command not to leave the Enterprise."

"Sir… Isn't the shuttlecraft considered part of the Enterprise?"

"A technicality, but... It could be interpreted that way." Picard smiled. "Interesting thinking, Mr. Worf."

The captain drummed his fingers on the armrests of his chair as he watched the warp ship drop out of view and descend into the cloudy atmosphere. _"Somehow, they are getting through the security grid,"_ he thought. He looked at his first officer. "Mr. Worf. Looks like you have the best option. I will take this up with Starfleet Command. Meanwhile, you have the bridge. Let me know immediately if our mystery vessel decides to show itself again. Stand down Red Alert."

"Yes, sir," answered the commander, getting to his feet.

The captain stood, adjusted his tunic and entered his ready room.

* * *

><p>The comm. chimed just as yet another Starfleet administrator was added to the conference call. This time, it was his first officer.<p>

"Excuse me," said the captain politely and muted his call. He then answered the new comm. signal. "I'm very busy, number one," he barked. "What is it?"

"Sir... We need you on the bridge. It is urgent."

"What's happened?"

"The warp ship has returned... Sir, we have just encountered a primitive transporter beam!"

"On my way!" The captain left the ready room and stepped on to the bridge. "Mr. Worf! Report!"

"Sir! Engineering reports that Commander La Forge is no longer aboard the Enterprise."

"Damn... Mr. Tuvok, were you able to trace the source of the beam?"

"Yes, sir," answered the Vulcan. "It originated from the warp ship. It is now retreating to the planet below."

"Well, that settles it. Stand by, Mr. Worf." The captain turned and made his way back to his ready room, returning to the cross chatter of his conference call.

"Everyone," he interrupted. "I think this debate has just come to an end. One of the members of my crew was just _abducted_ by this so-called peaceful, hunter-gather society! That also just _happens_ to have warp capable spacecraft." Picard fought to control his anger. "And now we learn that they also have _transporters!_ Sirs! With all due respect... You must allow me access to Pandora." The Starfleet brass immediately began to squabble loudly. The captain sighed, placing his hand to his forehead. A moment later, Admiral Janeway brought the meeting to a quick conclusion."

"Jean Luc!" she barked. All on the call became silent. "Go and get your man. I'll take care of the red tape down here. Good luck and Godspeed."

"Thank you, Admiral. I will make a full report. Picard, out." He closed the channel and stepped out of the ready room, back onto the bridge. Mr. Worf relinquished the command chair, standing ready.

"Sir?"

"Get a team together, Mr. Worf," ordered the captain. "We are doing to find out what is happening down there!"

"Yes, sir!"

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><p>To be continued…<p> 


	3. Chapter 2: Turbulence

Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy the next installment! -YaoiBoy

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><p>"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.<br>"Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.  
>I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>PRELUDE:<strong> Kidnapped… Again?

_Commander Geordi La Forge_ was still poised as if working at his console when he rematerialized from the transporter beam. For the moment, he was standing on a transporter pad—cryosensor diagnostic and repair tool still in his hand. Facing the back wall, he immediately turned to face the transporter control panel when he was suddenly beamed away again.

_Site-to-site transport…_

He now found himself in what appeared to be a holding cell. It was a rectangular room surrounded by metal walls on three sides—the fourth being a Transparent Aluminum door.

"You gotta be kidding me!" yelled the engineer, noticing his new surroundings. "Who's in charge here!" he screamed. "Hello!" He tried his comm. badge, only to be greeted by a negating double chirp indicating a failed connection.

_The security grid…_

There was no one in evidence around the detainment area. With delight, the engineer noticed that he still had the cryosensor. The transporter operator had failed to remove it from the matter stream. He hid it away under the mattress of the hard, metal bunk. It was probably going to come in handy when the came to get out of there.

Examining the walls around him, there wasn't much useful information to gather. His ocular implants only picked up bare Duranium walls and miscellaneous, antiquated hardware components, many he did not recognize. Power signatures were sparse, with the exception of one stream that appeared to be feeding the ventilation system. There were no heat signatures of any kind within his limited range.

_Hmm… This must be Hell's Gate. Looks like it's been deserted for decades... Glad the environmental systems still work._

Looking outside the door of his cell, there was an unmanned console with a computer, powered off.

_That might be useful… But there's no power… Gotta fix that…_

After fifteen minutes, still no captor had come forward to explain why Geordi had been abducted to this place. There were no life forms to speak of, whatsoever. Detecting no sign of active surveillance, he decided to attempt escape. Using the cryosensor tool, he examined the centuries old electronic lock. Without power, there was no way the tool would be able to open it.

_This isn't going to work. Gotta find another way out of here._

Examining the walls more closely, he discovered that the best escape route would be the ventilation system. One problem—he could not fit through the opening. He looked down at his modern engineering tool. Suddenly, he had a thought. He returned to the door and examined the lock again. The dead power conduit ran through the wall to his left, eventually finding its way to the cell's illumination panel. Following it further, it entered a power junction box which was live with energy from the environmental control system. Geordi smiled.

_Time to turn on the lights in here._

Using his tool, he manipulated the junction box, diverting some power from the ventilation system towards the lock. A satisfying series of chirps emitted from the door panel. To his pleasant surprise, the door clicked and swung slightly open.

Checking one more time for life signs, he slowly made his way out of the holding cell and over to the computer terminal. Touching the screen, it came to life, immediately prompting for authentication.

Cryoscanners were useful tools; their application almost limitless in performing tasks on almost any piece of electronic equipment. This wasn't one of them.

"Damn…" he cursed.

Abandoning the computer and looking to the door facing the hallway, Geordi manually operated the handle and pushed the door open. The stagnant smell of uncirculated air greeted him as he stepped outside and into the hall. It was dark and obstacles were everywhere. Thankfully, his implants were far better than any night vision system and he graced the hallway quickly, finding his way to the nearest sign marked "EXIT." Stepping through the door, he discovered he was in an airlock. Examining the air particles on the other side of the external facing door, he saw immediately that the atmosphere was close to that of Earth, but toxic, nonetheless. Noticing the emergency re-breather storage pod, he was disappointed to find it empty. He wouldn't be going out this way.

Stepping back into the hall and closing the exit door, he retraced his steps. Passing the detention center, he continued onward, eventually hitting a dead end featuring a bank of non-functional lifts. A directory on the wall indicated that the Operations department was on level three; he was currently on level one.

_Might be some comms up there..._

Finding the stairwell, he made his way up to level three, the top floor. With a hefty shove, the heavy door gave way into the Operations department. The air was stale from lack of proper ventilation. Life support was working, but clearly malfunctioning. All the computer terminals were dead. There appeared to be no power to the entire room, save one workstation branded ENVIRO-01. The engineer examined the ancient HoloScreen, taking in its readout. Main power was offline—primary fuel source (deuterium) depleted. Secondary fusion power reactors were offline, as well. The base was receiving minimal power from the solar array _only_—all of its limited resources devoted to filtering the air for life support. Looking at the log, it had been running in this condition for fifty-seven years. _Impressive…_

Manipulating the panel, he got one fusion reactor online and directed some power to Operations, bringing the workstations back online. Fresh air began to blow into the room. He breathed more freely and smiled. Examining the workstations, he quickly located a comm. station—its transmitter indicated READY.

_Okay, time for this _E.T._ to phone home._

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 2<strong>: Turbulence

_Captain's log: supplemental_

_Our chief engineer has been taken captive by an unknown enemy evoking technology remarkably reminiscent of the 22__nd__ century. It is presumed that he is being held somewhere on the surface of the legendary moon, _Pandora_; a place humans have not set foot since we were exiled by the Na'vi more then two-hundred years ago. Now, we are to go down there on a rescue mission—two centuries of secrets awaiting us. An astounding opportunity for archeological study. The _Prime Directive_ may, or may not, apply based upon our discoveries, thus far. I admit to being curious as to what we will find, but the safe return of Lt. Commander Geordi La Forge takes the highest priority. With any luck, we will keep contact with the natives to a minimum. We can only hope Geordi's captors have done the same. Above all, we want this to end peacefully and without bloodshed._

* * *

><p>Mr. Worf, B4 and two security officers armed with phaser rifles were waiting in the shuttle bay when Captain Picard entered. His officers were equipped with standard side arms. He was about to question the need for such a heavy display of firepower, but immediately thought the better of it. As much as he wanted to dismiss the idea, he could not. Their adversary had fired upon the Enterprise and taken a member of his crew captive. Whoever they were, they were not looking to be friends.<p>

"Sir," called the first officer. "The _Argo_ is ready for launch."

"Very good, number one," answered Picard. "Let's move like we have a purpose."

With that, all boarded the shuttle, hatch closing behind them. Two minutes later, they cleared the bay doors and were staring at the beautiful blue-green world below. 

_"Pandora…"_ thought the captain. _"What secrets have you been hiding down there?"_ Due to visual distortion from the security grid, it was impossible to get clear orbital images of the surface. Neither sensors nor comm. channels would penetrate the barrier.

"We are currently following the warp ship's last known trajectory," stated B4. "Approaching the security grid's perimeter." The android manipulated his console. "The field is still fully intact. It is composed of many hundreds of thousands of cloaked, transphasic mines. They are very difficult to detect as their phase is shifting dynamically. The moment sensors detect a mine, they adapt to a different frequency." He turned to face the captain. "Sir… Even with the shields raised, we cannot safely pass through the security field."

"You are certain this is where they descended?" asked Mr. Worf. "There must be a gap in the field!"

"Commander, these mines are adaptive," continued B4. "Sensor scans also show that the position of the mines is dynamic, as well. They will likely converge upon anything that crosses the perimeter."

"Find a way around them, Mr. B4," ordered the captain.

Sitting at the co-pilot's station, Picard pondered to himself. _"How are they getting through?"_ Suddenly, an anomaly appeared in the scans he was monitoring from his console.

"There!" pointed the captain to a very small section of clarity on his console that displayed an otherwise murky view down to the surface. The unassisted view out the forward windows revealed nothing useful.

"Sir, won't the mines converge upon us the moment we approach?" questioned Mr. Worf.

"Captain, if I may," offered B4. The captain nodded and the android continued. "The fully operational mines are using nuclear fission as their primary power source and explosive. They also contain traditional maneuvering thrusters. Scans indicate a lack of fissile material in the mines occupying the section the Captain has identified. The mines will not be able to detonate should they converge upon us."

"Good work, Mr. B4," praised Picard. "Take us in."

"Yes sir." The android adjusted the controls continuously and the spacecraft began its decent towards the surface. "At our current speed, we will enter the atmosphere in approximately five minutes. Entering the security grid in ten seconds. I advise all to prepare for turbulence."

Almost without warning, the shuttle bucked like an angry bull trying to throw off its rider. Everyone managed to stay in their seats, thanks to hastily applied restraints. A moment later, the inertial dampeners compensated, smoothing their descent. All humans aboard experienced a momentary panic when several loud, metallic thuds were heard against the hull as the shuttle passed through the field.

"Mines are converging upon us," stated B4. "But as we expected, their detonators are offline in this section."

"How much longer before we are through, Mr. B4?" asked the captain urgently. "I'm not willing to bet that they will _stay_ offline. More importantly, shields are down to 50% and dropping fast. At this rate of bombardment, we have about one minute before they fail… Mr. B4?"

There was no response from the android. B4 had also stopped manipulating his console.

"Commander?" addressed the captain. "Mr. B4! Respond!" The android was comatose—his hands poised over his console as if in a freeze-frame. "Mr. Worf. Take over for B4. Now!" He pressed a few pads on his console, shifting piloting duties to the co-pilot station. "Hang on!"

Following the HUD overlay, Picard piloted as best he could, trying to evade the nearly invisible mines. While unseen by the naked eye, the ship's sensors did a modest job detecting and displaying them. With the help of Ensign Bradley, Mr. Worf and the ensign lifted B4 away from the left forward station, placing him in an unoccupied seat, aft. The Klingon took the pilot's seat and took over directing the spacecraft.

"Thank you, Mr. Worf," sounded the captain.

"We are almost through," reported the first officer as another heavy thump was felt, rocking the ship. "We need another sixty seconds."

"Everyone, brace for impact!" called the captain as another mine struck the ship. "Shields are down. Steady, number one. We cannot survive another direct hit."

The Klingon growled and bared his teeth as he intensified his concentration on the Heads Up Display. The concentration of mines was indeed diminishing. "Thirty seconds!" He growled more intensely as he banked and ship to avoid a head on collision. "Ten seconds!" He smiled confidently, anticipating a successful traversal. "And… we are clear."

"Nice work, Mr. Wor…"

The captain would not finish his statement. The shuttle rolled hard to the left and began to spin out of control. Alarm klaxons began to sound as white mist began to fill the passenger compartment—they were losing atmosphere.

Wide-eyed, Picard worked his controls, trying to isolate the hull breach. Worf was fighting his console, trying to arrest their tumbling descent.

"Emergency force-field is in place, but it won't hold for long!" yelled the captain. "Emergency environmental suit protocol! Quickly!"

Everyone but Mr. Worf immediately stood up and opened the overhead compartments immediately above their seats. Inside were emergency environment suits to protect the crew from sudden decompression and exposure to hard vacuum. They were not fully fledged environment suits designed for Extra Vehicular Activity, but they served their purpose. The voice of the computer sounded their impending doom:

"_**WARNING… catastrophic structural failure."**_

"Mr. Worf!" shouted Picard. "Your suit! Now, Number One!"

The Klingon growled as he continued to fight the controls. The shuttle was picking up speed. Without shields, it would burn up in the atmosphere in a matter of minutes if their speed was not brought under control.

"Don your suit, Commander!" barked the captain. "That's an order!"

"Yes, sir…" He stood up and reached up into the compartment for a suit. "Sorry, sir." He bowed slightly for effect.

The captain smiled. "Number one, I do not intend for any one of us to go down with the ship. No one will be dying today, Mr. Worf." He gestured to the flight control panel. "Allow me." The Klingon humbly stood aside and began to climb into his suit.

The entire crew fully suited up and secured in their seats, the captain took the left seat and worked the controls. After thirty seconds, the emergency force field completely collapsed. Explosive decompression vented the cabin in a violent rush. Hot plasma could be seen directly outside as the temperature in the crew compartment skyrocketed. The rear right exterior bulkhead was completely ripped away, taking a portion of the crew cabin, excavating Ensign Bradley along with it. The emergency environment suits could withstand the heat, but were not equipped with a parachute. Picard cursed at the loss of another member of his crew. He strengthened his resolve further, finally arresting the tumble and bringing the shuttle under control, slowing down and entering a safe angle of re-entry. A minute later, the plasma fire around the ship subsided and the temperature began to drop.

"We are at 21,000 kilometers!" yelled the Captain over the deafening roar of the wind through the breach. "Full power to lateral thrusters!" Mr. Worf worked the right side control panel, boosting engine power to maximum.

"Thruster power is at 120%!" shouted Mr. Worf. "Our descent is slowing, but the exertion on the hull has surpassed tolerance levels!" He paused and faced the captain with a grim expression. "The shuttle is breaking up!"

Looking back at his first officer, the captain began to accept the reality that the shuttle was lost. Their only bet was to bail out. Pandora's thick atmosphere, combined its lower gravitational pull would work in their favor.

"Mr. Worf!" shouted the captain. "Once we reach 10,000 kilometers, eject the crew compartment."

"Sir!" cried the first officer.

"It is our only chance, Mr. Worf!"

"Yes, sir!" The Klingon entered the command sequence. A red lever revealed itself above the co-pilot's station. He reached up and placed his large brown hand around it. "On your command, sir!"

"16,000…" sounded the captain.

"15,000…"

"14,000…"

The shuttle's descent slowed even further. "13,000! Brace yourselves!"

With sudden force, the rear compartment began to separate from the rest of the ship. The captain hesitated for a moment, but decided they could wait no longer.

"Now, commander!"

Mr. Worf pulled the emergency eject lever. A wave of explosive bolts fired all around them, releasing the crew cabin from the remains of the faltering _Argo_. They were thrusted away by the retro jets, pulling dangerously high g-forces. Mr. Worf lost consciousness.

The captain closed his eyes and thought of the things he found most dear—his time aboard the Stargazer—serving as captain of the Enterprise—the 35 years simulated on Planet Kataan with his wife Eline, two children and grandchild—playing the flute…

The captain was smiling to himself as the tumbling crew compartment's parachute finally caught wind, arresting the spin, but only to be torn away a moment later.

The compartment plummeted into the sea…

* * *

><p><strong>POSTLUDE<strong>: A People Divided

Unil txe'lan looked up to the sky when he heard the rhythmic thumping of aircraft rotors.

_They are coming…_

The people of the Omaticaya clan stopped what they were doing and made haste back to Hometree. They had to prepare for Inspection. Children cried as their parents hurried them to the ground level of the mighty tree. Hundreds of cyan bodies lined up in circular rows surrounding the massive trunk—the Olo'eyktan and Tsahik standing forward of the front row, standing stoically. Within minutes, they were ready, just as they always were.

_The sound of flying machinery was getting louder._

Unil stood in the forth row with the other warriors. He always dreaded visits from the Sky People. They would come in their noisy flying machines, just to plunder the Omaticaya clan's strongest warriors to work in their infernal mines.

_I'll die first!_

All murmuring stopped as the gray Samson tilt-rotor aircraft touched down a few yards in front of the clan leaders. Two Scorpion Class gunships landed shortly afterwards, just behind the transport aircraft. Men in dark metal helmets disembarked, automatic weapons drawn, and formed two parallel lines from the Samson to the Omaticaya leaders. Four people inside the chopper made their way out and began to slowly walk down the corridor created by the armed guards. They were dressed in elaborate, colorful, but revealing uniforms. The Omaticaya leaders got on their knees and bowed once the visitors were before them.

_One day, we are going to fight back!_

Without a word, the visitors walked past the clan leaders and examined the circles of Na'vi warriors, hunters, singers, weavers, caregivers, craftsman, mothers and their children. They looked each person up and down, poking and prodding what they liked—spitting at what they detested. After everyone had been seen, the visitors returned to the clan leaders. An older female Sky Person looked down at the clan's matriarch and frowned.

"Where are the rest of your warriors?" she said sternly. "You are missing at least four."

"All able are here," answered the Tsahik. "Those who are not present now rest with Eywa."

"And what makes you believe this!" scowled the older woman. "Did you witness their death?"

"I know, inside." She brought her hand together, as if to say a prayer.

"Oh, really?" The woman cocked her head. "Not only do I suspect that you know where they are hiding, but _you_ are going to tell me where they are." She reached behind her back and presented her queue. "Tsaheylu!"

"You and your clan are a _disgrace_ to the Na'vi people!" screamed the Olo'eyktan. "May Eywa forgive you all!"

"Silence!"

The Omaticaya leader hissed at the woman. Instinctively, two of the guards charged forward and flogged the Olo'eyktan with the butts of their riffles until the man was on the ground and had ceased the will to resist.

No one else dared say a word. Without further resistance, the Tsahik presented her queue to the feared leader of the Sky People, _Aytopu Karyu_.

Satisfied, Aytopu took the braid and made the bond. The Tsahik was visibly struggling to resist, but gave up a moment later. The spiritual leader cried as her mind was raped by the arch-matriarch.

Unil balled his hand into a fist.

_Just one day… I will put an end to this!_

* * *

><p>To be continued…<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: Captain's Log:

Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy the next installment! -YaoiBoy

* * *

><p>"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.<p>

"Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.  
>I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>PRELUDE:<strong> All Circuits Are Busy Now…

_Geordi La Forge_ had been optimistic. The comm. unit was functioning perfectly. He was using emergency distress frequencies that Starfleet's sensor probes throughout the sector would detect and forward to the nearest subspace relay. After an hour, there was still no response.

_The security grid…_

Giving up on that, he tried resetting the frequency back to the last one used before he had activated the console. He was met with dead air.

_Yeah… Why would anyone still be using that?_

The engineer laughed to himself, remembering that he was dealing with technology that was two centuries old.

_Lucky it works at all…_

After studying the control interface, he discovered how to program the computer to rapidly scan through all usable frequencies. If it detected a transmission, the computer would pause and display the detals. Only thirty seconds into the scan, the computer had paused and displayed Starfleet frequency 1486. The engineer put the frequency on audio, only to be greeted by random noise. Disappointed at finding no pattern in the chaos, he was about to resume the scan when there was silence, followed by four quick bursts of organized sound. The chaos returned afterwards. Twelve seconds later, the sound repeated itself.

_A Starfleet emergency distress beacon… That chaos is an encrypted signal!  
><em>

Geordi worked the console to the best of his ability. It was completely manual and things went very slowly, but he managed to get a geographical display which seemed to pinpoint the source of the transmission. Looking at the date on the map display, he cringed.

_Well… I guess two-hundred year old maps are better than no maps at all. _

He saved a snapshot of the map in his implants' internal storage and started the frequency scan again, making sure to skip over the live channel. As it ran, he searched the room for any gear that would allow him to breathe outside the complex. After literally searching every corner, he found nothing useful. Cursing to himself, he walked towards the windows. Looking out towards the horizon, he was amazed at the endless canopy of vegetation. Tall, green trees and airborne wildlife filled the 180 degree panoramic view of the window. All the surrounding buildings and the perimeter fence had been completely overgrown. Looking down at the ground, he immediately became hopeful. Just thirty meters away was a small building that, according to the decaying signage, was a supply bunker. If there was a place that would contain anything useful, that was it. He could certainly hold his breath long enough to get there, provided the building was accessible. It would be a huge risk, but he had to try.

Just as he was making for the exit, the comm. computer paused again on a different frequency. Curious, the engineer walked back to the computer console and activated the speaker. There was silence. Frowning, he reached for the pad to shut off the power. He stopped short when voices rang out furiously.

"Corporal Richards… report!" sounded a strong female voice.

"Richards, here. I'm two clicks south of the old human base. I'll be onsite in five to pickup the prisoner." The man sounded rushed.

There was a scowl. "Get it done, corporal! You are two hours behind schedule!"

"Yes sir! Right away, sir!"

The channel went dead again.

_I'm out of time. It's now or never…_

Shutting down the comm. computer, he ran out the exit and down the stairs to the ground level. Sprinting through the dark hallways, he found the airlock he had located earlier. Inside, after taking as large a breath as he could, he forced open the outer door, temporarily blinded by the sudden contrast of daytime light. Pulling up the maps on his implants' internal HUD, he locating the storage building and ran as fast as he could, struggling to avoid involuntarily taking an unwelcomed, poisonous breath. Seeing the building immediately in from of him, he picked up the pace. Thirty seconds later, he was at the door. Not surprisingly, it was locked with no power to open it.

_Damn it!_

Panicking for a moment he accidentally took a quick breath and immediately choked, trying to hold what breath he had left. The air was foul smelling and burned in his lungs.

_Concentrate!_

Looking back at the door, he examined the controls. He was going to accomplish nothing without power. Using his implants, he detected no power flows of any kind.

_I'm at my limit… gotta abort.  
><em>

Choking again, he made his way back to the airlock to the main complex; the same door he had emerged from. He was choking and coughing violently when he finally reached the door. It had only been three minutes, but it felt like an eternity. His heart skipped a beat when he realized that the door had locked itself when he closed it. With no power, he was in the same predicament here as he was with the storage building. Choking furiously, he fell to his knees, giving up. Just as he started to lose consciousness, he noticed the emergency locker recessed into the exterior wall. Struggling, he pulled himself up and weakly turned the door's red handle. The centuries of overgrowth gave way to reveal two perfectly preserved exopacks. Clumsily, he pulled a mask to his face and gasped for air, getting a rather unpleasant gulp of Pandoran poison before he felt the relief of filtered air entering his lungs. He coughed furiously, but was slowly regaining his breath.

The engineer had been extremely lucky, but he reckoned he wasn't safe. Now he wouldn't suffocate, but he had no supplies. Hearing the wild calls of the local fauna, he realized that something had probably already eyed him up for its next meal.

_Better think this through…_

Not two minutes later, he heard the mechanical sound of an approaching aircraft—a helicopter.

_My captor… Richards was his name. Might be the safest choice, all things considered._

The tilt-rotor helicopter flew overhead and hovered over the airfield, preparing to land. The tarmac was cracked and overgrown, but enough blacktop remained to place a few dozen aircraft. Carefully, Geordi made his way around the perimeter of the building just in time to see his would be kidnapper make a somewhat clumsy landing. The engineer cringed to see the vehicle land lopsided and on one skid and fall hard on the other skid with a heavy thud. Luckily, the aircraft didn't appear to be damaged. The pilot was clearly frazzled for a moment and took a deep breath at the realization he didn't crash. Geordi almost laughed and made his way over.

"You okay?" asked the human. The lanky, tall humanoid turned to the small, brown man with a start. He actually looked frightened for a moment.

"How did you get out here?" he cried. "Stop where you are! You are a prisoner of the Sky…" He tripped climbing out of the cockpit, barely breaking his fall with his skinny blue arms.

The engineer laughed and offered his hand to help up his fallen captor. He smiled as he met the Na'vi's large, golden eyes. The native softened his gaze at Geordi's charming smile.

"I believe you are here to pick me up," added the human with a laugh. "Not the other way around."

"You dare mock a warrior?" grumbled the Na'vi, refusing the human's hand. He slowly made his way to his feet and adjusted his skimpy uniform, standing nearly twice as tall as the human. Recomposed, he pointed to the aircraft. "Get in!"

Geordi raised his eyebrows and hesitated. "You know what? I have an idea. Agree with me and I will go with you quietly." the human smiled again.

"Not that you are in a position to demand _anything_, but…" he sighed. "Okay, what is it?" He was fascinated with the human's eyes and couldn't stop staring them.

"I'll fly, if you don't mind."

The Na'vi was about to protest, but paused, smiling a moment later. "Deal!"

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 3<strong>: Captain's Log: ...

Picard thought he was dreaming. He was alone on his private yacht out upon the oceans of the Pleasure Planet, _Risa_. The vessel was lightly jostling in the wind, its sails catching the breeze smartly. The dual suns were warm on the wooden deck and all was calm. The hardwood of the ship's wheel felt firm in his hand. He was dressed in his favorite short-sleeve shirt and shorts. The captain smiled.

"Is this the end?" he thought out loud.

He suddenly felt sad, thinking of the life he had left behind. Apparently this wasn't the Nexus, where he could simply wish his way back to his own space time. Somehow, this felt more permanent.

"Captain…" sounded a voice from behind him. It was a voice he knew very well.

"Guinan!" shouted the man joyously as he turned to face his old friend. The El-Aurian woman walked over to him and hugged him tightly.

"Jean-Luc…" she said, sweetly. "This is not the end." She paused and looked away towards to open sea. "At least, it doesn't have to be."

"Guinan… Am I...?"

"No, captain." She smiled sweetly. "This is not the Nexus. It's not Heaven, either." She looked back into his eyes. "And I am not your Guinan. I chose this form because you find it comforting."

"Then, who are you? And how did I get on Risa?"

"Brace yourself, Captain." She motioned him to take a seat on the pilot's bench. "Don't worry about the ship. I got 'er."

Hesitantly, he sat down. "Yes?"

"Captain... I was once known as the scientist Dr. Grace Augustine." She smiled and nodded at the Captain's sudden reaction. "Well, I'm pleased to see that you know who I am." She gestured to the sky. "This place... You are within the realm of the All Mother. To you, she would probably be classified as an organic, psionic energy storage array. She is _so_ much more than that. We call her _Eywa_."

The captain remembered the names from the classified recordings of 2154. Augustine was then the head of the RDA's Avatar program. As for the subject of Eywa, there was evidence to back up the doctor's claim, but it was not conclusive.

"Grace Augustine passed more than two centuries ago."

The dark woman smiled and morphed into the image of the former female Earth botanist.

"And?" She folded her arms. "Believe me now?"

"Fascinating…" suddenly, the captain frowned. "I've seen this before... Q!" He stood up and looked around with scrutiny. "Is this another one of your games? Show yourself!"

No one appeared. The only sound was the wind and the waves splashing against the sturdy little ship's hull.

"Captain…" The doctor rose to meet him. "I speak the truth. This is the closest thing I could ever call Heaven. And it is _very_ real. You are seeing a very small part of what Eywa has to offer us. Once your physical body is safe, I'm going to help guide you back."

"Back to where, exactly? My Physical body?"

"Captain, your body was badly injured in the crash. You were near death when we found you. Normally, the realm of Eywa is for those who have embraced her love and wish to spend eternity with her. Right now, she is helping you recover from your wounds by placing you in a calm place of meditation and rest."

"So… I am still on Pandora."

The woman morphed back into Guinan. "Yes, Jean-Luc. The people are trying to help you."

"The people?" questioned the captain. "You mean… the natives—the Na'vi?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "You are with the Ikran Clan of the Eastern Sea. Their Tsahik—their spiritual leader and healer—has placed you in direct contact with Eywa via a tree of voices. We can share our thoughts, if we wish. This place, Risa, is what you where thinking of when you came to Eywa. She is simply granting you your wish."

The captain shook his head. "So, you are telling me that I am currently in a Na'vi village, connected to this… tree?"

"Yes, Captain. But that is not all. Once you have sufficiently recovered, you have an important role to play here. We desperately need you to intervene in a dispute between the clans of this world."

The captain laughed. "You can't be serious. The only reason we came here was to rescue my chief engineer. He was taken captive by someone on this world."

"He was taken by the Sky People."

"I beg your pardon? You mean the RDA is still active here? There are still humans on Pandora?"

Guinan shook her head. "No, Captain. These are not the same Sky People from your history books." She morphed back into Dr. Augustine. "Let me give you a little history lesson."

* * *

><p>Commander Worf woke to find himself bound to a large tree. There were many tall humanoid people surrounding him. They were all in scantily clad clothing, weapons in hand and at-the-ready. The Klingon was unaware of how much time had passed. His environment suit was torn to shreds, but thankfully the helmet was still intact and was not leaking air through the neck to the compromised areas of the suit. According to the HUD, he had about two hours of breathable air remaining. He was in trouble.<p>

"What species of being are you?" asked an ornately dressed female. She appeared to be their leader.

"I am a Klingon!" he barked proudly. "I demand that you release me immediately!" Laughter ensued.

"Says the animal tied to a tree…" she said slyly. "Why are you here? Speak!"

The warrior growled, prompting the natives to tighten their aim. The clan leader waved them off. "Stand down." She looked at Worf playfully. "This one is harmless." She walked up to the man and looked down upon him. "I ask you again. Why are you here?"

"My name is Commander Worf! United Federation of Planets Starfleet Officer number…"

"I see!" interrupted the towering woman. She turned back to her clan, clapped her hands together and smiled. "So the little alien dog dares defy the Sky People! He must enjoy torture! Bring him inside!"

"I will not bow to any treachery you might throw upon me!" declared Worf.

"We'll see about that," said the leader as her warriors bound the Klingon's hands and guided him into a nearby cave. About twenty meters inside, they came upon a metal door. Entry was gained by biometric hand and voice print recognition.

"_Ay-to-pu…"_ mouthed Worf silently, determining that to be the leader's name after the door opened. They all stepped into what appeared to be a TurboLift.

"Level S-24," commanded Aytopu. The lift obeyed immediately, closing the doors and descending rapidly.

Worf looked up at his captors. They were unnaturally beautiful, with dark black hair, braided long in the back and wearing bright red, two piece uniforms. They were almost indecent in nature, covering only the breasts and genital areas. It was at this moment that the commander realized all his captors were female. The athletic looking, tight-fitting upper garments were embroidered with the letters "RDA" and had attached what appeared to be a rank pin, transmitter and weapons harness. They looked to be made from a smooth, Lycra type of material. The lower garment was little more than a fancy loincloth, but also appeared to be machine made and was consistent among the soldiers. All were bare-footed, but wore bright red leggings. Their weapons were reminiscent of ancient Human crossbows and slung across their backs. A close glance revealed them to contain type 3 disruptors—particularly brutal weapons. The commander made a tactical note to study their operation in the hope of eventually acquiring one to aid in his escape. Arriving at their destination, the doors opened to a brightly lit hallway. Worf was not prepared for the humanoid being that was there to greet them.

"_Vulcans… What is going on here?" _thought Worf.

"Welcome back, your grace…" The young Vulcan male closed his eyes and bowed courteously.

"Spoka!" yelled the matriarch. "Have your men take this animal to a holding cell. I intend to interrogate him personally." She looked down at Worf again, wrinkling her nose. "And make sure to bathe this one! His fowl stench insults my presence!" The Klingon growled.

"As you wish," responded the man. He raised his hand and two more of his kind approached, carrying staff weapons. They were dressed in white robes—the letters "RDA" embroidered on the right breast. They relieved the Klingon from the Na'vi warriors.

The Na'vi leader turned back to the Vulcan that had greeted them. "Join me," she commanded. He obediently walked over to her and took her larger blue hand in his smaller tan one.

"I live only to serve you, my queen," he said dryly. She looked down and smiled at the man, placing an index finger under his chin, lifting his eyes up towards hers. With her other hand, she caressed the tip of his ear.

"You will learn to love me, my Spoka," she said seductively. She ran her hand inside his robe. The Vulcan was expressionless until she began to play with one of his nipples. A short groan betrayed his feelings. The man frowned for a moment, clearly displeased with himself.

"Yes, my grace." His voice was quivering slightly.

"That's better," she smiled, kissing the man on the forehead. "Bathe with me now." She turned back to Worf. "I'll deal with _you_ later."

The Klingon frowned, giving the Na'vi leader a stern look. One of the Vulcan handlers immediately struck him in the back of the knees with his staff sending an electric jolt through his body. Worf fell to his knees with a growl.

"It would be wise to behave, Mr. Worf. We do not wish to resort to unnecessary violence." The Vulcan's polite cantor was almost maddening. Helping the Klingon back back to his feet, he then raised a draped arm and pointed to the right facing corridor. "This way, please. Also, breathing apparatus is not required here. The atmosphere in this section is suitable for your needs." When Worf made no move to remove the headpiece, the Vulcan just raised an eyebrow. "Very well. Let's go."

Walking the corridors, they were passed by more than a dozen Na'vi warriors in the blazon red uniforms. As expected, all were female. Not one Na'vi male was apparent. There was the occasional Vulcan, always dressed in the white RDA robes… and always male. They were clearly in a subservient role to the powerful native women towering over them.

"Are there no Na'vi males present in this facility?" Worf asked his handlers. "There also appears to be a lack of Vulcan females."

"It is none of your concern," the Vulcan to his left stated dryly. "Our destination is directly before us." A Na'vi guard relieved the Vulcans of their escort duties, providing a hand print to open the main door into the detention area.

"Come with me," the giant native woman said, pushing the smaller man through the doorway, nearly causing him to stumble. The big, metal door shut behind them automatically. "You are in interrogation room A." They entered a rectangular room with mirrors that reminded Worf of the old fashioned crime HoloNovels Captain Picard and Commander Data enjoyed on the Enterprise. There was a simple table in the middle of the room along with two chairs facing each other. One was Na'vi sized—the other, smaller.

"Your helmet," snapped the woman. "You must remove it, along with your remaining garments." She had one of the RDA robes in a clear package under her arm. She gave it to Worf. "You are to wear this robe at all times. Be strong and, in time, you will find your place and be of benefit to the Sky People."

The Klingon threw the robe back at her. It hit her in the chest and fell to the floor. "I will not become one of your slaves!" announced Worf with a growl.

The woman sighed. "Then you will die in one of those cages like a feral animal." She picked up the robe and placed it on the table. "Put this on, _now_." She stood there, staring down at him. "You must be dressed before the interrogation begins. If Queen Aytopu gets here and you are still being difficult, she _will_ harm you."

"Let her try!" yelled the warrior. Without warning, he toppled the table over and rammed it into the Na'vi's legs. Unprepared, she stumbled and fell to the floor. While the woman was confused, Worf made for her side arm—a Na'vi sized hand phaser. Weapon in hand, he rolled away, stood up and pointed it at her. She immediately placed her hands in the air.

"I do _not_ wish to harm you!" yelled Worf. "Stand up and face the wall." She stood up slowly and faced the wall as instructed. She began to laugh, lightly.

"You can't escape. Where will you go? Everything is controlled by Na'vi biometrics."

"That is why _you_ are coming with me. You have my word that you will not be harmed. You're going to take me to a launch bay."

She turned around and smiled. "And what if I resist? You are just going to have to shoot me." She started to approach him slowly.

"As you wish," and he pulled the trigger.

* * *

><p><strong>POSTLUDE<strong>: Plan of Action

Unil had formulated his plan. Four of his friends had been rumored to somehow escape their destiny of being taken away by the Sky People on their 18th cycle. There was a rumor that Eywa was helping them, _directly_. He wasn't sure he believed that part, however. His plan required a solid strategy that didn't rely on false hopes and unknowns.

He would leave in the middle of the night on foot. Travel by Pa'li would attract too much attention. He would make for the Hallelujah Mountains and take part in a ritual that had not been performed in more than a hundred years. The clan's Tsahik regularly told tales about a time when the Na'vi people would join with the Ikran, bonding for life and flying together as one. A wild Ikran was now a rare site as most had been hunted to near extinction by the Sky People, long ago.

He prepared a food wrap with all the items needed to last for many days. He took two water skins, as well. Once most were asleep, he quietly walked out of Hometree and into the surrounding meadow. He disappeared into the underbrush in a sprint. His heart was pounding once he finally crossed the river which formed the old border between the human lands and the Omaticaya. He would arrive at the old human base by daybreak. He only hoped he would find what he needed.

End of Chapter 3

* * *

><p>To be continued…<p> 


	5. Chapter 4: Friend or Foe?

Sorry for the delay. I hope you enjoy the next installment! -YaoiBoy

* * *

><p>"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.<p>

"Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.  
>I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>PRELUDE: <strong>The Night-watch Takes Charge

_Dr. Beverly Crusher_ felt frustrated as she barked orders to the rear science station. Two days had passed since communications were lost with the away team. A second shuttle sent to the coordinates where the _Argo_ had entered the security grid was immediately converged upon by mines and nearly destroyed. The crew was beamed back to the _Enterprise_ just as the shuttle depressurized. The science officer was now busy recovering the badly damaged shuttlecraft with a tractor beam. The medical chief pounded the edge of the Captain's Chair, cursing to herself. All attempts to establish communication with the away team had failed. Many feared they were lost, but no debris field indicating remains of the _Argo_ was detected.

_They must have made it through. They had to! We have to establish contact. Think Beverly, think!_

She almost jumped when Ensign Hayley placed her hand on the doctor's shoulder, whispering in her ear.

"Captain, you need to get some sleep," she said. "Of all people… _you_ know that."

Dr. Crusher was about to protest, but she knew better. All on the bridge were staring at her with hard, worried faces. She hadn't slept since the _Argo_ vanished into Pandora's atmosphere two days ago.

"You're right, Ensign," smiled the Doctor. "Of course… I will get some rest in a minute." She turned to the comm. station. "Has there been any progress on getting the Vulcans to deactivate the defense perimeter?"

"No, sir," answered the young Lieutenant Adams. "I am _now_ told by the Vulcan Defense Directorate that a T'Kana, Director of Extra-Planetary Security, has final authority over the defense grid placed around Pandora. She is currently away on retreat studying for Kolinar and is unreachable."

"Oh! Is she, now?" exclaimed the acting captain with rising sarcasm. "I guess I will just have to take this up with Starfleet command!" She rose out of the captain's chair and stumbled. Luckily, Ensign Hayley was there to catch her—a smirk on the young woman's face.

"Alright… I'll call Starfleet after I've had some sleep." The doctor then gestured to the comm. officer. "Adams, wake me in 30."

"Yes, sir!"

"Deanna, you have the bridge."

"Aye… captain," said the counselor nervously. Dr. Crusher looked the woman over and nodded in encouragement.

"You can do this. I have faith in you."

Deanna had always felt a little uneasy taking command outside of her typical duties. She much preferred her Night Watch posting over emergency situations. The possibility of having to order someone to their death to save the ship would forever haunt her.

Troi slowly descended into the Captain chair as Beverly marched proudly into the captain's ready room and lay down on the bench for a nap. She was asleep almost instantly.

"Lt. Adams," called the counselor to the comm. station. "How much longer till the Titan arrives?"

"Last report said she was sixteen hours out at warp 9.8; her best speed."

"Thank you," resigned the counselor. She crossed her legs and concentrated on the powerful emotions she was sensing from Pandora. Without warning, the feelings stopped, as if suddenly silenced. Concerned, Troi stood up and walked over to the science officer's console.

"Hanson… How long would the Enterprise's shields hold against direct contact with the security perimeter?" The Vulcan's eyes went wide for a moment.

"Sir," he answered soberly. "The Enterprise's shields are designed primarily to repel directed energy weapons and destructive radiation. Contact with solid objects renders them far less effective."

"Yes, I am aware of that. Thank you." She was losing patience. "How long would they last?"

Hanson tilted his head and raised his hands towards the counselor forming the shape of a picture frame. "You know, a Starfleet uniform would look dashing on yo…"

"How long, Vulcan!" snapped Troi. She blushed suddenly at the realization that she had nearly screamed. All eyes were on her. She was currently wearing a short, red dress which stood out from the subdued purples for the command staff.

The Lt. smiled. "Yes, I am a Vulcan. I believe my extended, exterior aural sensory nodes make that fairly obvious." He pinched the tips of his pointed ears with a goofy expression on his face. There was light laughter among the bridge crew and Troi relaxed a bit. Maybe a laugh was what they all needed. The tension was bearing down on them.

"Very funny, Mr. Comedian," said Troi with a smile. She sensed no animosity towards her from the highly emotional science officer.

"In all seriousness, commander," returned Hanson. "The ship's defenses would last approximately 2.56 seconds against a direct collision with the security grid. It would not be recommended."

"Is there a way we could extend that to ten seconds?"

The Lt's brow furrowed. "You mean to rescue the away team via the transporter."

"That's right. Ten seconds would be more than enough time, if we can locate them."

"Agreed. I will need to prepare an analysis to test and determine what can be done to accomplish ten seconds of protection against a direct collision with the security barrier." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Also… I've missed your presence on the recreation deck. I perform every Tuesday, remember. This week I have a special show in mind, just for you."

"Yes, yes…" said Deanna shaking her head. The Vulcan standup comedian had to be the most outrageous yet amusing spectacle she had ever seen. His show was actually quite popular and she had seen it many times. She smiled at the thought of going back to see him perform again. "I'll be there for the next show."

He smiled back at her. "Excellent. I will not disappoint."

"Alright, Mr. Hanson. Let me know when that analysis is ready."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 4<strong>: Friend or Foe?

_Captain Jean Luc Picard_ ran his hand along the Psionic Link Chamber. The centuries old device looked as if it had just been manufactured, being in pristine condition. There weren't even any fingerprints on the transparent control console. He thought about what he had just learned.

The entity residing with the Captain, posing as his closest friend Guinan, had brought him up to date with the aftermath following the War on Pandora of 2154. For twenty years, there had been peace around most of Pandora. However, there was one huge exception. She had told him all about how the Tipani clan, who had been nearly wiped out by the RDA, decided to embrace the power of alien technology. When the Vulcans residing on Pandora came to help them rebuild, the frustrated clansman took advantage of the Vulcan hospitality. They turned on their would be saviors, forcing them into slavery while stealing their technology. They forced their Vulcan slaves to build them weapons fit for Na'vi use and ships for them to fly. The Na'vi slaves did the heavy lifting that erected their technologically advanced, underground city. The surrounding clans, having rejected technology, were no match for the fierce Tipani who were now brandishing Vulcan weaponry. Easily defeating and enslaving their neighboring clans, notably the Omaticaya, they established themselves as the dominant power on Pandora. It was only a matter of time before they ruled _all_ of Pandora. The Tipani had built a brand new, advanced society and adopted the name "Sky People" for themselves—a name that would instill fear with the remaining clans that had yet to be conquered. The Vulcan defense perimeter, originally designed to hide Pandora from other societies that would look to exploit it, had backfired. No entity outside of Pandora was aware of the travesty that was happening there and the Tipani had used this to their advantage. To make matters worse, the various locations of the control systems for the security perimeter were a long lost secret. The Tipani did everything they could to destroy all knowledge of the grid from the Vulcan database. Therefore, it could not be easily shut down. The entire event had been a disgrace to the Vulcan consul and they had made every effort to hide all evidence of the incident, not even bothering to dispatch a rescue mission. They had effectively abandoned their colony on Pandora.

The captain came back to reality, staring at the equipment in front of him.

"fascinating… It all seems so real." The captain looked back at the manifestation of his closest friend. "Guinan... Why are you showing me this?"

"We need your help, Jean Luc. Climb into the chamber. Walk as one of the people."

"Wait… Doesn't this process require a genetically altered Na'vi body created with my own DNA?"

"I have taken care of that. Just climb in. I will explain."

The captain was certainly curious about the idea of driving a Na'vi body, but something just didn't sit right with him. "I understand and want to help, but... how do I know I can trust you?"

"We need someone to bring the people back together and stop this endless tyranny. Those who are enslaved must be freed.

"Guinan..."

"Please, Jean Luc. There isn't much time." The woman walked over to the link unit's control panel and pressed a few pads. The lid opened automatically and the scanner unit spun to life. She then gestured to the link bed. "They are waiting for you."

"Who, Guinan? Who!"

"The leaders of this world who are still free," she said solemnly. "They await your guidance."

The captain quickly assessed his situation. He hadn't completely written off the entire experience as a possible figment of his imagination. For all he knew, he was near death in some satisfied animal's belly. He quickly decided to humor his situation. Getting back to Pandora and locating his missing crew members was the top priority. As this entity was supposedly providing him a way to get back, he had better take it.

"Okay, I will do as you ask," he said boldly. "How long will I be driving an Avatar? When will I be able to return to my real body?"

At that moment, the entity morphed yet again into another familiar face. "The People will stand watch over your human body, Jean Luc," stated the manifestation of Admiral Janeway. "They will protect it with their very _lives_ for they know how important this mission is for all of us." She walked up to the captain and took his hand, leading him over to the link bed. Without hesitation, he climbed in. "Just keep your head back and relax. Let the machine do the work for you. Once you have completed your mission and your human body has regained its strength, I will bring you back here." She saluted him as she closed the lid. "Godspeed, captain!"

After a few minutes, the captain became a bit dizzy and had to close his eyes. Slowly, he become aware of extremities he knew were not of his own body. With a quick flash of light, his eyes saw both the inside of the link chamber and a blue sky. Slowly, the link chamber faded away and the sky became brighter as he gazed through unfamiliar eyes. He suddenly heard drums—many blue bodies dancing to the rhythm were circling around him. An ornately dressed native in a red tunic was leaning over him, speaking softly. Picard was pleased that he could clearly understand her words. Noticing that he was aware of her, she stood up and raised her arms in the air with a loud cheer. The drums stopped and she turned back to the captain.

"Eywa told us you would come!" she exclaimed with a great smile. "So, _you_ are the one who will bring salvation and peace. Eywa has indeed blessed us all."

Feeling his strength coming to him slowly, he slowly made his way to his elbows and stared at the crowd of Na'vi people surrounding him. Just to the left of him was his human body, covered with green underbrush beneath a towering white tree. He looked in awe at its beauty.

"Is this the Tree of Souls?" asked Picard.

"No, your grace," responded the leader. "But it is very similar. We call this place _the_ _Well of Souls_. It is just as powerful as the mighty _Tree of Souls_ you speak of. Eywa has made her presence to me here on several occasions. Today was one of those days!"

"Yes, I see." He held up his massive blue hands to his face. "Your Eywa is truly a miracle."

"You have spoken with her?"

"Yes..." he answered cautiously—the Starfleet Officer in him internally citing the prime directive. "I had a vision. She spoke to me, making everything clear." He was not certain if the Na'vi people were aware that their Goddess could literally appear before them.

"Welcome to the Ikran Clan of the Eastern Sea," the woman said gracefully. "I am Jane… _Jane Sully_, their Tsahik and Olo'eyktan."

The captain's golden eyes went wide. "I am Jean Luc Picard. Are you an ancestor of a _Jake_ Sully?"

"Yes! I come from the proud line of the great _Toruk Makto_." She smiled and bowed before him. "At your service." The woman offered her hand and Picard slowly got his lanky Avatar form to a sitting position. "Nice to meet you, _Jean Luc Picard_. Please remain seated. In time, you will find your strength. For now, you must eat!"

The captain looked back at his human body. Two armed Na'vi were standing on either side of it, protecting it as promised.

The Na'vi leader turned and clapped her hands together. A moment later, two beautiful young Na'vi women brought baskets to the Avatar: one full of food, the other: cloth. The captain never thought he would find these strange fruits palatable as a human, the very smell of them made his Na'vi mouth water. He took an exotic purple fruit in the palm of his hand and took a big bite—flavor exploded in his mouth.

"This is exquisite!" exclaimed the captain, blue juice running down his chin. "Thank you!" One of the women wiped his face with a thin cloth. The other one went through the cloth in the other basket, pulling out a loincloth and tunic. They indicated that the Avatar was to put them on. The tunic was black and red—similar to that of the Na'vi leader.

_"How appropriate,"_ the captain laughed to himself as he examined the tunic.

The women smiled at him as they helped him get dressed. The captain felt embarrassed at the sudden realization that he had been completely naked this entire time. He shrugged it off, successfully maintaining his dignity. Once the women were done, they picked up the baskets and ran off into the crowd with laughter. There was much laughter as they conversed with a small group of equally excited Na'vi. With that, a small celebration began. There was music and dancing, all for the new Avatar's arrival.

After about fifteen minutes, the captain felt he had enough strength to try and stand. He hadn't really noticed his tail until now. It helped him keep his balance almost instinctively. He found that if he concentrated, he could control its motion, albeit somewhat clumsily.

_This could be useful. Going to have to practice this._

He also noticed his queue; covered thickly with braided hair and dangling down his back. He held it in his hand for a moment, fascinated. He was aware of how it could be used and looked forward to trying his hand at riding a direhorse.

The two young women who had brought him food and clothing ran back up to him and grabbed his arms, helping him walk.

"You' walk better soon! Take' time!" the girl on his right said in broken English. Apparently, Eywa had not included a universal translator with this fancy new body. They were actually speaking English.

"Thank you," said the captain. He admitted to feeling a bit more confident in his new, _younger_ body. He had no idea how old he really was, but he felt all the urges of a young man again. It was overwhelming at first, but he maintained his composure, even while physically attached to the beautiful Na'vi women walking him towards the edge of the giant canyon. Before them was a path that appeared to wind all the way up to the top. The celebration continued below with a modest group following the Avatar and his handlers.

After about ten minutes, they finally reached the top and the captain was able to look out and see vast landscape of the plateau before him. Far away in the distance, he could see the dense treeline of the forest, some twenty kilometers away. Between here and there, there were patches of vegetation, but it was mostly barren.

The Avatar's ears had heard the mighty roar of the sea, but now he could see what he was hearing. The vast Eastern Sea was to his right—the mighty waves crashing against the perilous, heavy rocks below. Looking across the dark blue water, no land could be seen across to the horizon. Looking back at the canyon below, it became obvious as to its origin—the round shape clearly identified it as an impact crater. An asteroid likely crashed here, many thousands of years ago.

"Madame Sully… How did your people find me?" asked the captain.

"Please, just call me Jane," smiled the leader. She then smiled at the woman to Picard's right. "You can thank _Tingay_. She is the one who found you."

The captain lost his breath and immediately became exited, turning to the young woman. "Tingay… There were others with me! What happened to my Away Tea… ehh… my companions?" The girl was about to answer, but was abruptly interrupted by the Tsahik.

"Now is not the time, Jean Luc," answered the leader sternly. "You need to rest. We are taking you to our best tent. Please sleep and gain your strength." She gave the girls a stern look. "You two are not to disturb him. Understood?" They both nodded to the affirmative. "Good then! Let us carry on." The captain gave a curious look at the leader, but did not argue. He was incredibly disoriented and some sleep was exactly what he needed.

After a ten minute walk, they arrived at the largest tent in the village. It was decorated in red with shapes that reminded the captain of birds of prey he'd seen painted on Klingon or Romulan vessels. He immediately decided that any discomfort he had with the tribe's décor was misplaced and he buried it in the back of his mind. Inside the tent was a large bed made from animal skins. It looked very comfortable and the captain longed to lie down.

"Please, Jean Luc," said Jane. "Make yourself at home. I will be right outside, enjoying the festivities. If you need anything, the girls will get you anything you desire." The captain noticed the personal effects located throughout the circular room.

"I appear to be putting someone out of their home. Certainly there is something unoccupied."

"Relax, Jean Luc. This is _my_ home. And _no_, you are not putting me out. I will sleep under the stars tonight." She smiled. "It's been a while since I've done that. I've missed gazing at the constellations."

"You know the constellations?" asked the captain, smiling.

"Stargazing is a tradition in my family that has been passed on for generations. Come. Let me show you something." She guided him over to a rack full of various native garments and accessories. She then reached through the hanging items to pull out a large, rectangular box made from metal which was about 2 meters long. She smiled at the captain as she opened the box to reveal a Zhumell z12 amateur telescope. It had seen its share of wear over the decades, but it was carefully packed away and there was evidence that the unit had been properly maintained. The captain looked back up at Jane and smiled.

"Extraordinary…" admired the captain. "How long have you had this?"

"This goes all the way back to Toruk Makto. It is written that he presented this device as a gift to his first born son. It has been passed down ever since. My father taught me to use it when I was old enough. I will pass it on to the next generation..." She sighed. "If there _is_ one."

The captain noticed her sudden sadness and embraced her slender shoulder, but dared not speak for he did not know the details of her situation. She brushed his hand away.

"I appreciate your concern Jean Luc, but I am very strong," she said confidently. "You need not worry about me. … Now, you must get some rest."

Together, they walked over to the soft bed and the Avatar laid down while looking up at the Na'vi leader with concern. Once settled onto his back he decided to reach out to the saddened woman.

"Jane Sully… I will do whatever I can to help _you_ and your people. I know your freedom is in jeopardy. I promise you that I will end this!"

She smiled. "Thank you, Captain… I—"

"Captain?" sounded the Avatar with concern, rising to his elbows. "Do you _know_ who I am?"

"Rest, Jean Luc… Yes. You need rest." She suddenly pricked the avatar with a needle of some kind.

"What is going on!" shouted the captain, suddenly groggy. When he tried to get up, he discovered he was paralyzed and could not move. He groaned and willed his limbs to move, but it was no use.

Jane turned back, looking sad. "Captain Picard… Trust me when I say that we mean you no harm. It's just that… someone needs to speak with you."

"Who… Please…. Tell me what is going..…" pleaded the immobilized avatar, losing conciseness.

"The Sky People."

Those were the last words he heard before the captain fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Geordi La Forge<em> studied the ancient controls of the tilt-rotor helicopter and, with some last minute instruction from his "captor," the engineer felt he understood them well enough to start up and begin their flight. He slowly engaged the throttle and the engines roared as they came up to speed, lifting the powerful craft off the ground and into a hover. He practiced simple maneuvers, getting a hang of the controls.

"Okay, so where' to?" asked the engineer once he was confident he had full control.

"Back to base—towards those mountains." He pointed in a westerly direction. "I will warn you to fly as low as possible. We do not wish to attract the attention of other creatures that fly."

"You mean the predators."

"Yes!" cried the Na'vi warrior. "They will not hesitate to attack us should we be discovered."

Looking back into the cargo area of the Samson class aircraft, Geordi noticed the two mounted, heavy machine guns.

"Know how to use those?"

"Of course I do!" cried the Na'vi proudly. "I am a warrior!"

"Right…" The engineer sucked his teeth for a moment. "Okay. We need to move fast 'cause it will be dark soon. I don't think flying around at night would be such a good idea. I'll get us back to base, but we need altitude to allow for some speed. We are going to have to risk flying with those beasts. Why don't you man the guns? Make sure nothing gets near us."

The Na'vi nodded. "OK! You, fly! I'll protect us!"

The engineer shook his head with worry as he pushed the throttle harder and they left the perimeter of the old human base. The light of Alpha Centauri A was starting to set in the western sky as they headed west towards the Floating Mountains of Pandora.

* * *

><p>Worf growled as he trudged his way to the inner security door of the empty detention center. He figured he had seconds before security personnel stormed in. Straining, he lifted the lifeless arm of the Na'vi warrior he had taken down with her own phaser and placed her palm against the biometric reader. After a moment, the door slid open with a hiss. He was now in the short corridor between the inner door and the door that opened into the hallway. The Klingon cursed and stepped back into the detention area when he saw that the exterior door also required biometrics for egress.<p>

_Mantrap…_

The simple security measure was archaic, but extremely effective. He would have been trapped in that room, secured in both directions by the two doors. He would have to drag the limp Na'vi body through the inner doorway and down the hall to the second door before a likely alarm would sound. With a heavy grunt, Worf decided this was not going to work. He would have to find another way out. At that moment, he noticed that the fallen guard was starting to come to from the heavy stun. Worf thought for a moment. She could be used as a hostage to make his escape.

_Dishonorable… Not the way of a warrior._

"You'll never get out of here alive, you wretched animal," laughed the guard. "They are coming for you now. Go back to your leash or you're a _dead man!_"

Worf growled at the woman and hit her again with the phaser beam, knocking her out cold again. Her head fell to the floor with a thud. At that, the alarm sounded followed by security personnel over the comm. system. The Klingon gritted his teeth as the doors went into lock-down mode. The biometrics were now offline. Figuring it didn't matter anymore, he set the phaser to its maximum setting and blasted the electronic lock, destroying it. Unfortunately, the physical lock remained in place. There was no time to cut through it.

Looking about the detention area, there was no place to run. This was only one way in, or out.

_This would be a very bad place to be in the event of a fire... _Suddenly, he had an idea.

He moved a trash receptacle under one of the fire suppression sensors. Adjusting the settings and firing the phaser again, he ignited the contents of the trash can into a steady blaze. The fire alarm sounded over top of the security alert and the suppression system discharged, filling the room slowly with foam. As luck would have it, all the doors immediately slammed open and arrows directed him out the door and into the hallway towards the nearest emergency exit. Needing some cover, he went back and grabbed the Vulcan robe he had originally refused to wear.

Entering the hallway, there was chaos. People were scrambling to the exits and were quite disorderly. As a result, Worf was able to slip through before the security staff could penetrate the mob of Na'vi and Vulcans clamoring about. By pulling the hood of the robe over his head, no one paid him any mind in the commotion. The escaping Vulcans gathered by the inner door of the exit airlock, awaiting instructions. They all looked quizzically at the one "Vulcan" that continued into the airlock and closed the door behind him.

The exterior emergency exit door opened into a larger, unoccupied cave system of narrow passages branching out in multiple directions. He was thanking K'las for the fact that he had refused to remove his breathing mask, for the air in here was unfiltered. There were no lights of any kind and it was pitch black dark. Worf decided he should continue onward, despite the dark. A few minutes later, as he worked his way deeper into the cave, he heard a rise of commotion behind him. Apparently, the guards were on to him.

He would be no match for an entire team of security personnel with just a hand phaser. His power supply would be well exhausted before he could take them all down. He saw lights beginning to shine behind him. He had a good hundred meters on them, but they would gain fast.

As he slowly made his way in the dark, he heard the sound of running water getting louder with each step. When he turned a corner, he discovered a waterfall within the cave. There was no telling where it would take him, but he decided he would have to risk it. Any place was better then here. Wrapping the heavy robe tightly around him, he jumped into the waterway and was immediately swept away by the raging water, deep into the caverns below.

**_Sto-vo-kor_**_ awaits all who are honorable._

* * *

><p><strong>POSTLUDE<strong>: Eywa is Angry

Unil's heart sank as he sat inside a hollow tree just outside the main gate of the old human base. Sky People in bright red uniforms carrying rifles were marching through to the inside and seemed to be on high alert. Once inside, the commanding officer barked loudly at the majority female squad which immediately came to a halt. They then broke into teams of two and dispersed in different directions. Clearly, they were looking for something, or _someone_.

_What are _they_ doing here? Eywa has not been kind today…_

Looking over the grounds, he saw his target, but being seen by the Na'vi forces was something he had to avoid at all costs. He would have to revise his plans. It had taken a full day's ride on a wild pa'li to get here just to have his plans shattered. Suddenly, his ears perked and a small smile came over his face. Finding the befriended direhorse grazing nearby, he remounted and headed back the way he came.

_The old RDA school house may have what I need._

* * *

><p>To be continued…<p> 


	6. Chapter 5: Coming Together

No, this story is not dead! Now that winter is on the way, I'll have more time over the weekends to write. -YaoiBoy

* * *

><p>"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.<p>

"Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.  
>I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>PRELUDE:<strong> Laughter Is Good for the Soul

Tuvok grimaced as he approached the science station to relieve his junior officer. He never cared for the lackadaisical, illogical excuse for a Vulcan. Nevertheless, Lt. Hanson was a competent officer and a brilliant scientist. He had just been published by the Vulcan Science Academy for his breakthroughs in electromagnetic repulsion technology. He had engineered a shield generator that could do the same job as a common unit used on starships, but at 1/8 the power consumption. Starfleet was currently evaluating his findings for potential use on its vessels.

"Greetings," said the younger man as Tuvok approached. "I trust that your meditation was… peaceful."

"Indeed," answered Tuvok. "I am ready to relieve you." He gestured with his left hand, signaling for Hanson to vacate the science station.

"Of course." He stood up and offered the seat to the senior science officer. "May your duty shift be… productive."

Tuvok nodded and sat down quickly, scanning the control panels and bringing up his own, customized console configuration.

"Live long, and prosper, commander."

The older man raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his irritation. "Peace and long life." A snicker was heard elsewhere on the bridge.

"Challenge your preconceptions, or they will challenge you." The younger man was deadpan.

"I did not know you were a philosopher, Mr. Hanson. Your statements are logical, but… time consuming." Tuvok was clearly losing his patience.

"Logic is the cement of our civilization, with which we ascend from chaos, using reason..."

"Yes, Mr. Hanson!" shouted the older Vulcan. He stopped himself immediately, having realized that he had fallen into the comedian's trap. At that instant, laughter broke out across the bridge as Hanson grinned widely at his superior officer.

"Have a nice day! I know you love filling in as Science Officer. Security detail can be too… relaxing." With a slight bow, he made his way to the turbo lift.

Tuvok looked back at the departing officer, barely managing to hold back a frown at the man's sarcasm. Ideally, he preferred his security duties, but he did not question his responsibilities. With that, he began to go over Hanson's report regarding the use of the _Enterprise's_ shields to penetrate the security grid surrounding Pandora.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 5: <strong>Coming Together**  
><strong>

Unil rummaged through the old and overgrown RDA school house for the Na'vi. Pandoran vegetation had completely taken over and not much of the structure remained standing. In fact, the entangled flora was the only means by which the building still stood. After some effort, he unearthed the old storage locker where he had previously found the remains of human technology. He was looking for one thing in particular—a clear panel that displayed a map of the old human mining operation. He could not read the human writing, but he had figured out what it represented. His heart sank when he discovered the device cracked and non-functional.

"_So much for that idea..."_

Shrugging his shoulders, the Omaticaya warrior discarded the broken HoloPad and made his way back outside to the waiting Pa'li. With a little effort, he was back on the creature's back and started off again. Encouraging the beast to a full gallop, he headed west towards the Hallelujah Mountains. He soon realized that he would not make it before nightfall. After an hours ride, it was already dark and the landscape began to self-illuminate itself more brilliantly.

Riding on for another hour, Unil decided it was too dangerous to continue as he heard a pack of nantang out for their nightly hunt. The Pa'li would be easily frightened by the viperwolves and would surely be overcome by the ferocious pack. He immediately dismounted and set the direhorse free. It ran away quickly in the opposite direction from which they had come. For his own protection, Unil found a sturdy tree and climbed up and inside the trunk. To prevent the wolves from coming inside, he laced the entrance to the hollow with a suave containing the marking scent of a palulukan. Thanator urine was quite potent and would keep all beasts away. After a sparse meal, he tried to get some sleep. He tossed and turned, failing to slumber more than a few minutes at a time. He was futilely trying to remember the layout of the human mine that rested abandoned below the giant floating mountains of rock laced with unobtanium ore. Mining of the mineral had ceased after the Great War—the rare mineral since replaced with renewable alternatives.

"_Amazing that they ever fought over this stuff…"_ thought Unil as he drifted off to sleep—the crashing mountains echoing in the night.

* * *

><p>Geordi adjusted his breathing mask as he carried the last of the emergency supplies from the smoking remains of the tilt-rotor. The man grimaced at the klutzy Na'vi warrior.<p>

"_You could have mentioned that you didn't know how to turn off the safety…"_

Their flight had gone well until they entered the mountains and were immediately attacked by a Toruk looking for a meal. Corp. Richards had failed to even arm his weapon as the beast had latched onto their ship, immediately sending it spiraling out of control. Had the giant beast been able to maintain its grip, they both would have likely perished. The engineer had regained enough control to make a hard, emergency landing which caused severe damage to the ship. The tail section had been completely severed from the fuselage and one rotor had been sheared clean off. This would be the craft's final resting place. They were stranded on a large mountain of floating rock with no easy way down.

"I thought you knew how to fly!" screamed Richards, his hands on his hips, tail flicking back and forth. "This is all _your_ fault! I would have done much better!"

"My fault?" cried Geordi. "If you had done your job and fended off the predators, this would not have happened. You shouldn't have lied to me. Now, your silly pride has cost us both. Big-time!"

"The human weapon was jammed. It would not fire," cried the Na'vi, a sense of false confidence in his voice.

"What is with you!" shouted the engineer. "This macho, false pride of yours nearly got us killed!"

Placing the remains of the supplies on the ground, he tried to calm himself. Geordi decided that there was no sense in arguing.

"Well, regardless… Here we are. Now, listen… we need to work together to find a way to get down from here." He looked over the edge of the floating mass they had landed on and noticed the thick, rope-like growths connecting the rock formations together. He also noticed that some hung down from their own platform while others were dangling just above them. A few were within reach—to a Na'vi.

"Hmm… these vines may be our ticket out of here. Think you can reach those and climb up? The rock formation above us has vines connecting to the others immediately surrounding it. One might take us closer to the ground."

"This is not worthy of a warrior!" He looked away from the human. "There must be another way."

"Okay, I'm listening." The human walked over to the nearly 3 meter tall alien and stood in front of him. The Na'vi turned around, facing has back to the human. After a few seconds of silence, Geordi lost his patience. With annoyance, he grabbed the warrior's tail forcefully. Much to the human's surprise, the Na'vi yelped and jumped a full meter in the air. Geordi now had the Na'vi's full attention.

"How dare you!" cried the warrior. He stroked his tail like the appendage had been injured. "You _never _touch a warrior's tail! It is a reserved practice… for…" The Na'vi appeared to be somewhat embarrassed. "…mates."

"Oh…" Geordi was clearly embarrassed, himself. "Sorry, I didn't mean—".

"It is okay," said the Na'vi. "You are right. We have to work together. I will climb." The Na'vi was calm all of a sudden. "Come. I will carry you on my back."

"Now, we're talkin'!" exclaimed Geordi. "Hopefully we can get down before nightfall. The idea of being trapped up here while it's dark gives me the creeps."

"Come," said the Na'vi invitingly. "We must leave immediately." He got on his knees and gestured for the human to climb on. "I' carry you like 'child."

"Thanks… I think."

The engineer climbed up the blue striped back and placed his arms around the man's neck. The Na'vi then tied a rope around them, holding them together.

"Alright!" shouted the Na'vi, suddenly exhilarated. He jumped towards the vines hanging from above. Grabbing on, he began to climb, easily ascending up to the next ledge. He hooted loudly at his success.

"You sure are in a good mood all of a sudden," noticed the human.

"I will save us. Make up for… 'mistake."

Geordi's jaw dropped open. "Did I just hear you admit that you made a mistake?"

"Don't push it, human!" laughed the Na'vi. "When we get out of here, you are still my prisoner."

"Thanks for remanding me," Geordi sighed.

The Na'vi smiled to himself as he started walking out onto the ropes of vines which connected their floating rock platform to the next one. A strange, but happy feeling was emerging from his heart, but he did not know why.

* * *

><p>The tunnel seemed to go on for an eternity. The roar of the rushing water was deafening. Despite the well worn walls, Worf's thick Vulcan robe snagged several times and eventually ripped off, leaving only the tattered remains of his Starfleet uniform to protect him. The winding curves finally converged into a larger, underground body of water, but the currents were very strong and his helpless body picked up speed. His breathing mask was now full of water. He had been holding his breath for at least two minutes. Another two minutes and he would be done. Gritting his teeth, he pushed his arms against the current, trying to direct himself towards the edge of the mighty river. It was of no use and he decided it would be better not to struggle and let the water take him where it must. His first concern was to clear the water from his mask, but he decided the risk of losing it was too great. He would have to wait for calmer waters.<p>

The water continued to accelerate his body as the roar increased in volume. The river banks were converging together. Daylight was visible far ahead as the tunnel was coming to an end. However, only the Pandoran sky was visible through the opening.

_Waterfall..._

Stroking his arms again, he labored furiously towards the embankment. It was no use as the current pulled him right back into the center of the channel. The ledge upon him, he instinctively crossed his arms as he plummeted over the edge. Worf felt his innards rush to his throat as he entered freefall. After what seemed to be a good 20 seconds, he finally hit the water below, shooting like a missile straight to the bottom. He immediately pushed off towards the surface. Once he emerged, he was happy to notice the waters had calmed. Nearly swallowing a mouthful of water, he made his way to the shoreline and removed the flooded exo-pack, dumping the water out. Unable to hold his breath any longer, he mistakenly took a full lung's worth of poison Pandora air. Chocking wildly, he collapsed to the ground, his lower half still submerged in the water. The Klingon knew he was in serious trouble. He involuntarily took in another full breath of poison atmosphere.

"_No… not like this,"_ thought the warrior as he began to lose consciousness. There was no stopping it. He knew he was finished. Just as he had accepted death, he felt the familiar tingling sensation of a transporter beam. Someone was beaming him out! He traded the damp feel of the water for the solid feel of a transporter stage. Fresh air slowly entered his lungs again. The warrior began to cough as he re-acclimated. Slowly, he opened his eyes to the site of bright red boots and blue legs.

"We have the alien dog back in custody," sounded a familiar female Na'vi voice. "We need a medical team to transporter room two. The prisoner appears to have inhaled atmosphere."

"Acknowledged," the warrior heard as he finally passed out.

* * *

><p>Picard snapped awake to the inside of a link chamber. It took him a moment to realize what had happened. Alarmed, he immediately pushed the lid open.<p>

"What is going on!" he shouted. "Why am I back here?"

"Please calm yourself, Jean-Luc," answered the voice that had originally greeted him. Eywa walked up to the control panel aside the link bed and tapped away at the pads. "They appear to have subdued your Avatar. It is offline." She sounded a bit frustrated as she transformed from appearing as Guinan to what the captain could only assume was her natural form.

"I'm sorry, but I need to focus my energies on the current situation." Eywa had lost her almost magical charm. "I have been fighting these savages for centuries as they have wrecked this world." She turned to the captain. "We really need your help against these lost children of mine. I can no longer control them. I fear they will spread to places beyond this world if we do not resolve the situation." She placed a blue-green hand to her forehead and sighed.

Jean-Luc stared for a moment at the creature's extraordinary, naked beauty. She looked very much Na'vi, but her skin color was an emerald green. Her long dark hair and queue extended to her hips. Despite her lack of garments, she appeared to have no sense of embarrassment.

"They really _are_ your children, aren't they?" said the captain softly as he sat up and extended his legs over the edge of the link bed. "My primary responsibility is the safe return of my missing crew members. Once that goal is accomplished, we will do everything within our power to see that these villains are dealt with. You have my word."

The exotic goddess looked down upon him and smiled. Dropping to one knee, she placed her arms around the captain's neck and hugged him tightly. "You are a beautiful man, Jean-Luc." She released her embrace and kissed him on the forehead. "I will help you recover your crew members." She smiled. "But first, we need your Avatar back online. It will take me too long to prepare another one." She pointed the captain to a workstation next to the link chamber. "I created this from your memories. I hope you find it useful."

The captain looked in awe as he walked over and sat slowly into the swivel chair. It was the same model you would find on any Starfleet vessel. Examining the workstation, the control pads were laid out in the standard, Starfleet default configuration. Entering the different menus, he discovered he had most of the capabilities of a full science station—long and short range sensors, spectral analysis tools, communications, and even some weaponry.

"Photon torpedoes?" question the captain. "How is this possible? Are we in some form of vessel?"

"Not exactly," she answered. "I am merely presenting you an interface to which you can access and utilize the resources surrounding my world. These were the best representations I could come up with. You don't actually have photon torpedoes, but a functional equivalent." She actually seemed proud for a moment. "How did I do?"

"Madam, this is nothing short of a miracle." He brought up the visual sensors which displayed images before him without need of a viewscreen. He cycled through the various views. Looking at a catalog of locations, there appeared to be multiple views of every sector of the land masses. Then he noticed that it specifically was those in which there was a canopy of rainforest.

"The trees…" noticed the captain. "Of course... Dr. Augustine was right."

"That she was!" smiled Eywa. "She had me figured out centuries ago. Grace is still a part of me and helped to design the console before you. You can communicate directly with the living creatures around us. Just say your orders as if you were on your bridge. They will readily obey you to the best of their ability. I have placed the entire resources of this world in your capable hands."

The captain looked back at the woman with great curiosity. "Amazing that you are so trusting of me. I assume you have read my mind enough to know my true intentions. No worries. I will use these resources with great care and responsibly towards our mutual goals."

"I know." She said, smiling while vanishing right before his eyes. "You have my love, captain." The voice seemed to come from inside his mind. "Together, I have great confidence that we will be able to accomplish our goals."

* * *

><p>Unil rubbed his eyes, squinting against the morning light. He had slept poorly, being in unfamiliar territory with the thunderous roar of the floating rocks crashing together throughout the night. He blinked repeatedly as he thought he had observed figures moving along the vines between the rocks. He dismissed it as silliness and opened his food wrap for his morning meal. As he ate, he silently imaged Na'vi warriors of times past climbing these very mountains to catch an ikran. He laughed to himself.<p>

"_And to think I wish to follow in their footsteps. I must be crazy!"_

He knew that humans had hunted the beasts to near extinction hundreds of years ago. The few that still survived were much smaller and less powerful. They were not likely to ever be capable of carrying a Na'vi rider. But an ikran was not what he had in mind. The toruk still ruled the sky and were plentiful.

"_Can I really tame one of those beasts, as did the Toruk Maktos of legend?"_

He smiled.

"_Only one way to find out."_

Finishing his meal of fresh nuts and fruit, he packed up his tiny camp and hopped down from the tree. He walked to the ledge nearest the floating mountain of rock before him.

"_No one has done this for over a hundred years."_

He shook his head and jumped for the nearest vine hanging from the floating formation. Grabbing on tightly, he discovered his grip was not sufficient to hold his position. He began to slip. Panicking, he tried to arrest his fall by grasping the vine with his feet. It was no use. He slipped faster and faster towards the end of the vine. A cloudy mist below him disguised the distance he would fall, but he knew if was many hundreds of meters. With no canopy below him, a fall from this height would be fatal.

Just when he thought it was over, his feet got tangled in the heavy leaves surrounding a giant, blooming flower on the end of the vine. Completely loosing his hand grip, he fell headfirst and was left dangling from his captured foot, swinging wildly. His supplies fell to the ground, including all his food. All he had left was a hunting knife.

"_Oh, no… It won't be long before a toruk discovers me here."_

He tried to reach and pull himself up, but he had not the strength. His foot was tightly wrapped around the leaves so at least he was safe from falling. It wasn't long before he heard the loud squawk of one of the giant, flying predators. A moment later, he saw the beast approaching. Its colors were a bit duller—a female. He also noticed that his eyes had not deceived him earlier. Sure enough, in the distance, there was a Na'vi dressed like the Sky People carrying a human on his back. There was only one thing he could do.

"Help! Please!" screamed the Omaticaya warrior. "Over here! Help!"

Unil flailed his arms in a mad panic, trying to get the other man's attention. Suddenly, he saw the man stop and duck for cover as he had also heard the approaching beast. Unil continued his harsh screaming, swinging the vine wildly.

"Hey!" Unil heard from the distance. The man had spotted him and was now gesturing to keep quiet. The trapped Na'vi was deathly afraid, but he managed to cease his cowardly screaming. Satisfied, the distant man began to make noise of his own. The beast changed its course, heading for its new target. Shortly afterwards, there was a flash of light. And then another… and another… The beast wailed in pain and turned back in the direction from which it had come. They were safe, for now. It would certainly be back.

"Stay where you are!" Unil heard from the distance. The voice sounded human. "We will try and reach you." The two distant men resumed their stance, continuing their way over, occasionally grabbing a vine and descending to a lower floating platform. It took a good twenty minutes before they approached the trapped warrior. They now stood on the floating rock from which Unil was hanging. The would-be rescuers looked over the edge to see the frightened warrior dangling below.

"Wow… You really did get yourself into a bind," said the human. "Put me down. I think we get help him."

The Na'vi Sky Person stood proudly as he lowered the human to his feet. "I shall climb down and carry that pitiful excuse for a warrior back up."

The man glared at the Na'vi for a moment before continuing. "This is not a time to act macho. However…" The man looked down towards the trapped warrior and smiled. "Let me have your phaser. I have an idea."

"I will not!" the Na'vi snapped. "What is it you intend to do? Put him out of his misery? Is this your futile attempt to escape from me?"

"No, you dummy," laughed the small brown man. "I need to cut the vines."

"I fended off the Toruk. I can certainly shoot a vine."

"Your lousy aim nearly got us killed back there!" shouted the man. "I don't trust you with that thing! You'd probably miss and kill the guy. Now hand it over."

"Hello?" cried Unil. "What do you mean, 'cut the vine'?"

"The ground is only two meters below you! There is soft grass." yelled the human.

Unil looked down to see nothing but a thick mist. The ground was not visible. "How can you be so sure?" he yelled back.

"Just trust me on this! You'll be fine!"

* * *

><p>"<em>I have located Geordi,"<em> thought Captain Picard. _"But I have to find a way to approach that is_ _non-threatening."_

"Good luck with that," he heard Eywa, as the sarcastic voice of Guinan. "Maybe using 'the biggest, bad of the sky' isn't the best choice to try and make contact."

The captain smiled. "Perhaps you are correct. A more subtle approach, perhaps." He looked at the visual sensor feeds of his console, seeing both infrared and color through the binocular eyes of the toruk. His control of the beast had been temporarily lost when it fell upon the erratic, but dangerous phaser fire emanating from the very target they were trying to contact. After scanning the immediate area, he became painfully aware that no creatures were apparent as his giant predator had likely scared all other life forms away. He would have to start over.

Just as he was about to release control of the beast and search another region, Eywa reappeared in the form of Dr. Grace Augustine. She quickly walked over to the control panel of Picard's link unit.

"Your Avatar is back online," she said. "Going back in would be the best way to make contact." She pressed a few pads and the lid opened. "Go now, before it is too late."

"One mustn't argue with a goddess," he laughed. The captain released the toruk from his control and climbed into the link bed.

"Good luck," she said. "I will help in any way I can."

"Thank you," he said, grabbing the doctor's arm. "For everything."

"Hopefully this will all be worth it. I suspect you may be the one that finally ends this conflict."

"I will do my best."

"I know you will." She smiled and closed the lid.

* * *

><p><strong>POSTLUDE<strong>: With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility

Wesley Crusher drummed his fingers on the console before him. He listened with frustration as his crewmates futilely tried to come up with a plan to save the away team. He had made a promise to himself that he would not intervene in any way beyond the normal abilities of a human being, but said promise was wearing thin. His longtime captain and friend was stranded and possibly in danger. With a simple thought, he could move the mines out of the way and easily maneuver the _Enterprise_ safely through the security barrier. However, he had not made his abilities known to his crewmates. As far as they were concerned, he had only come aboard to visit after attending Riker and Troi's wedding. After a huge loss of life battling the Romulans, _Enterprise_ needed a helmsman and, against his own better judgment, he took the post. It was only to be an interim position until a replacement was sent from Starfleet. That had not happened. Despite his internal struggle, he enjoyed being back with his former crew. However, he couldn't stand to watch them suffer any longer.

"_I have to do something."_

* * *

><p>To be continued…<p> 


	7. Chapter 6: Reckless Actions

This is a short chapter, just to keep things moving. Enjoy! —YaoiBoy

* * *

><p>"Avatar" is the property of James Cameron and Twentieth Century Fox.<p>

"Star Trek: The Next Generation" is the property of Paramount Pictures.  
>I take no credit or monetary compensation for the fictional worlds referenced in this work.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>PRELUDE:<strong> Under Siege

Captain Picard looked up in awe at the beautiful Na'vi creature staring down at him. He then frowned, realizing he was restrained and being carried on a gurney. Remembering what had happened right before he had been forced out of his Avatar, he snapped back into focus.

"Jane…" he called softly. "Don't do this. Let's talk. I'm sure we can work together."

"The Sky People are ruthless, Captain," she answered sadly. "They threatened me with the destruction of our village if I did not hand you over to them."

"How did they know I was here?"

"They watch our every move, Jean-Luc. They rule us with an iron fist—take our children." She looked sad. "It is a shame I won't get more time to know you better. We could have been wonderful friends."

"Listen to me, Jane!" cried the captain. "We can help you. Just tell me what is happening." He managed to grab the Na'vi leader's arm. "Eywa is with us. She wants to help us."

The leader scowled, snatching her arm away. "Don't try and tell me the will of Eywa!" she yelled. "Of course she wants to help us. We have waited patiently for over one hundred of your years, praying for salvation. It hasn't come—it likely never will. You see… Direct intervention from the All Mother happens very rarely."

"This is one of those rare times, I can assure you." The captain smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 6:<strong> Reckless Actions

"Shields are at maximum!" shouted the tactical officer. "All available power is at the ready!"

"Okay…" said the acting captain, _Beverly Crusher_. She looked back at Lt. Hanson. "Are we ready, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir," answered the Vulcan, eyes glued to his console. "I show shield generators outputting at 120% normal capacity. We have approximately ten minutes before we fuse the relays."

The doctor pressed a pad on the arm of the captain's chair. A chime sounded, indicating the ship-wide comm. channel was engaged. "All hands. Brace for impact." Closing the channel, she sat forward to the edge of her seat. "Engage, Mr. Crusher. Full impulse."

"Aye, sir. Full impulse."

The red glow of the impulse engines burned brighter as the ship smoothly responded to the helm, quickly approaching the minefield.

"We will reach the field's perimeter in twenty seconds!" called Hanson. "Transporter chief, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir! Already scanning for the away team."

One the viewscreen, the moon Pandora became larger in view as they approached—the obscured view of the surface below becoming slightly clearer as they approached. Exactly 15 seconds later, the first impact was felt. The inertial dampeners kept the ship from lurching, but it was enough that everyone felt it.

"Steady as she goes, Mr. Crusher."

"Mines are converging…" called tactical. "Five seconds to impact."

"Evasive Action!" called the captain.

Wesley concentrated and let his mind slowly ease away from his body. He began to feel new appendages as he melded his mind with all the systems aboard the _Enterprise_. He smiled to himself as his felt the cold, vastness of space upon his metal skin.

"Sir! Instrumentation is offline!" shouted Hanson. "Systems are failing throughout the ship!"

"Dear, Lord…" cried Dr. Crusher as she looked forward to the chair where her son _used_ to be seated. She stared on in horror as he faded from view and vanished right before her eyes.

_"Wes!"_

She wanted to cry, but her training kicked in immediately. "Grisom, take the helm!" The tactical officer moved without hesitation and got seated just as the ship jolted from multiple impacts. The doctor snapped her attention to the science station. "Report!"

"We have suffered some minor structural damage. Shields are down to 35%. At this rate, they will be depleted in twenty-one point three seconds."

"Transporter room!" barked the doctor. "You have twenty seconds!"

"Sir!" called Grisom from the helm station. "I'm not sure how, but this console is still being operated! Course corrections are rampant. I've never seen anything like it!"

The doctor smiled. "Lieutenant… Return to tactical."

"Sir?"

"Do it!"

He returned to his station without further hesitation. "Shields are failing!"

"Transporter room!" yelled the doctor. "We have to pull out of here! Status!"

"Nothing yet, sir! Still scanning!"

"Sir!" called Hanson. "I'm not certain as to the cause, but shields are holding at fifteen percent."

"I can explain sir," tactical chimed in. "The ship is making an extremely high rate of course corrections. Maneuvering thrusters are firing an average of sixty-one times per second! Someone is flying her, sir. We are avoiding the mine convergences, even at full impulse. Not even the main computer could do this. This is very atypical!"

"My Wesley is anything but typical, Mr. Grisom." She seemed to relax and turned back to the science station. "How long do we have?"

"If Mr. Crusher can continue to avoid bombardment, we could stay here indefinitely. However, that would not be advised."

"Right, Mr. Hanson." She stood up and rushed over to the helm. "Wes… If you can hear me… can you give us another twenty seconds? Acknowledge if you can." The letters "O. K." flashed on the console. "That's my boy!" She ran back to the center seat. "Transporter room! You have twenty seconds more to beam them out of there!"

"Aye, sir!" answered the transporter chief. "I've locked on to commanders Worf and La Forge. Beaming now! Sir... My scans have been detected. They are now being jammed."

"Alright, I'm coming down there." She stood up. "Wesley! Get us out of here!" The ship immediately began to pull out of the mine field. Suddenly, the ship lurched wildly, throwing anyone standing to the floor. Dr. Crusher cursed as she pulled herself up using one of the arms of the captain's chair. "Report!"

"Direct impact of a cluster of mines. Shields are down," replied Grisom. "We have hull breaches on decks thirteen through seventeen! Emergency force fields are fluctuating, but emergency bulkheads are closing!"

"Increasing power to emergency force fields," reported Hanson. "We are almost out of the mine field. Just fifteen seconds more at the current rate of speed."

"_Hang on, Wes!" _The Doctor wondered if she would ever see her son again.

"We have cleared the minefield, Captain… and not a moment too soon." The Vulcan looked quite serious. "We have many casualties, sir."

"Damn…" sighed the doctor, hanging her head for a moment.

"_Hold it together, Beverly!"_ Before she could recompose herself, the comm. sounded.

"Transporter room to bridge! You might want to get down here."

"Report, mister!"

"It would be easier if you just came down here."

"On my way."

"Mr. Grisom, you're with me. Hanson, you have the bridge. Let me know immediately if my son re-appears."

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

><p>The doctor stared in awe at the four life-forms on the transporter stage. In their manic rescue attempt, they had managed to secure two of the missing away team members, but had also nabbed a few uninvited guests. The officers stepped down as the doctor approached.<p>

"Geordi! Mr. Worf! Are you okay?" cried the doctor as she did a quick scan with a medical tri-corder. Neither had serious injuries.

"We're both okay, Doctor," answered the engineer. "Your timing is impeccable."

"So… who are your friends?" She looked up at the other two life forms that somehow managed to make the trip. Security officers had phasers on them.

"I'm sorry sir," answered the transporter chief, running over to face the doctor. "Apparently these two latched on at the moment of transport. Given the timing, I didn't dare risk sending them back. As you can see, I took some precautions." He motioned to the security personnel.

"You did the right thing, Lieutenant…" She blushed at not knowing the young man's name.

"Nog, ma'am," answered the young Ferengi. "I had security standing by, just in case."

"Well done, Mr. Nog," smiled the doctor. "Carry on."

"Yes, ma'am!" he smiled and returned to his console.

The doctor stared for a moment at the two unexpected visitors. They looked very uncomfortable, having to sit on their knees as they were both too tall to stand. She had seen images of the Na'vi before, but pictures did no justice to standing next to one. Exotic giants, almost indecent in their choice of clothing… The doctor almost blushed examining the blue warriors.

"Lieutenant. Transport them, along with the security detail, directly to cargo bay one. I want them in a place where they won't have to crawl on their knees."

"Yes, sir!" answered Nog as he prepared his console. "Ready, sir."

"Energize." Before they could say a word, they dematerialized. Beverly looked up at Mr. Worf with great relief. "Glad to see you back, Commander. The ship is yours. I need to get to sick bay. We've had quite a catastrophe here."

"Doctor," acknowledged Mr. Worf as she left the room. "Mr. La Forge, please join me in Cargo Bay one. We're going to get some answers as to what is going on down there."

"You said it!" answered the engineer.

* * *

><p>End of Chapter 6<p> 


End file.
